iLost My Mind
by morningsound15
Summary: Carly/Sam. This is a rewrite of the episode iLost My Mind, in which it wasn't Freddie that Sam kissed; it was actually Carly. See what happens when Carly and Sam are forced to confront their feelings for each other. M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

_This is a rewrite of the episode iLost My Mind, in which it wasn't Freddie whom Sam kissed; it was actually Carly. See what happens when Carly and Sam are forced to confront their feelings for each other._

**Disclaimer:**** I own iCarly. I mean obviously, that's why I spend my time writing fanfiction all day. But seriously, if I **_**did**_** own iCarly, you know what would be happening… Cam all day every day. I can't help it if they're perfect for each other.**

iLost My Mind

Carly opens the door to her apartment, a worried frown on her face. It's been three days since she's heard from Sam. Yeah, they left things a little weirdly… really weirdly, actually. In fact, it kind of freaked Carly out the way they left things. But still, it wasn't like Sam to just disappear for days…

Oh who was she kidding? This was exactly like Sam.

"Hey." She says, dropping her sweater onto a nearby chair. "Have you heard from Sam?" She asks her brother and guardian, dropping her backpack simultaneously.

"Nuh-uh." Spencer grunts, wriggling around where he's standing. It's only then that Carly looks down at him, and sees her adult brother, trying to stuff and squirm himself into a pair of skinny jeans. She really should be more surprised.

"She skipped school again?" He continued holding the conversation, acting as if nothing strange was going on. If Carly was being honest with herself, nothing strange _was_ going on.

"Yes, three days in a row. No one's heard from her, she hasn't answered her phone or…" She trails off as Spencer starts to grunt and make moaning noises.

Curiosity gets the best of her. "What's happening here?" She finally asks.

"Me getting fat," Her brother whines. "Look!" He exclaims. "I can barely get my jeans past my butt slabs!" He turns around, bending over slightly to show her and prove his point. He wiggles a little more.

Carly has to smile at her brother's antics. Honestly, you'd think _she_ was the guardian of the family. "Those are my jeans." She informs him, only feeling slightly disgusted, and a little disappointed that she can never wear those jeans again.

"Well…" He says, looking down, and then at her. "Yeah I know." He says, trying to act natural, with his seventeen year-old sister's skinny jeans still halfway up his thighs.

"I'm really worried about Sam." Carly continues, walking towards the kitchen. Sometimes she paces when she has to think.

"So call her mom." Her brother suggests.

"I can't! She's in Tijuana having laser hair removal." Carly has to stop herself from spitting the phrase out. Yeah, she and Sam joke about it, and laugh at Mrs. Puckett's strange vacations, but sometimes, Carly really hates that woman. What kind of mother just up and leaves her seventeen year-old daughter home alone to fend for herself?

What kind of mother doesn't come back when she realizes said daughter hasn't called in three days?

"From what part of her body?" Spencer asks acting a little frightened of the answer.

"I didn't wanna know!" Carly interjects quickly. She _really_ doesn't want to be thinking about that.

"How are we gonna find Sam?" Carly asks, her voice dropping a little as her worry becomes evident.

"Would you just talk to Freddie about it?" Spencer asks, his voice coming out tight and constricted. Carly didn't know why he would be getting emotional about something like this. Sure, he's an emotional person, but…

"No! I'm not going to talk to Freddie about Sam because-" She trails off, her eyes widening, as she realizes her almost slip-up. _Because then I'll have to tell him why she ran off._ She finishes in her head.

Luckily Spencer is Spencer, and doesn't notice anything. "These pants are squeezing me in ways you can't understand." Is what he responds with.

"Why won't Sam just talk to me…?" Carly's thought is cut off by a knock on their front door.

Freddie walks in, looking down at his Pearphone. He freezes as he looks up, the door slamming shut behind him.

"These are Carly's pants, okay?" Spencer offers up in explanation. Freddie doesn't move. "Mistakes were made." He adds.

Freddie shrugs. "Maybe you should take 'em off."

"Good call." Spencer then turns to his sister. "Where's the olive oil?"

"In the bathroom where you left it." Carly doesn't even remember what he was doing with the olive oil in the bathroom. Odds are she doesn't want to know.

"Yep." Spencer says, turning and attempting to walk as the pants constrict his movements. He ends up sort of galloping his way up the landing and down the hall towards his bedroom. "Oh, the squeezing…" And then he squeals as his socks slip on the hardwood floor. He disappears into the bathroom, and Carly turns her attention to her other best friend.

In the suddenly silent apartment, Carly's heart rate speeds up. She's worried that she'll slip up, do something, or accidentally say something that would clue Freddie into… whatever the hell it was that was happening with her. God if she told Freddie… Sam would absolutely kill her.

He surprises her with what he says next. "I'm really getting worried about Sam."

Carly sighs. It's a little bit weird to hear Freddie voicing any kind of concern for Sam. "Me too. I mean it's been three days since-"

"Since you two kissed?" Freddie cuts her off, turning his head to look at her.

Carly stands there, her eyes widening almost comically, feeling her heart slow, and then stop. _Oh God._

"Yeah," he says, "I know. I saw it with both my eyes." He points to his face for emphasis. Carly can't say anything.

_He knows, he saw, he saw her kiss me, he knows…_

"You guys were talking and then she kissed you and you didn't stop her. And why didn't you tell me?" Carly opens her mouth to say something, but Freddie cuts her off before she can utter a syllable. "Do you like her?" He asks quietly, and it causes Carly to stop breathing. She can't think. He's talking too quickly, asking too many questions. She can't think…

"Is this a new chapter in our lives? What's going on?" He asks, folding his arms over his chest and staring at her, obviously expecting an answer.

Carly doesn't know. It's really hard for her to think about this, any of this, when all she can think about is Sam, Sam, Sam. Sam's smile, Sam's eyes, Sam's lips on hers…

It all started at that stupid lock-in thing. She never should have gone to that, never should have listened when Freddie said that Sam was in love, never should have gone looking for her…

**CS**CS**CS**

_Carly pushes open the door to the side alley of the school. Sam's sitting against the opposite wall, playing with a water bottle, looking dejected, but still beautiful. Carly was always jealous of that quality in Sam. No matter how hard she tried, or more accurately, _didn't_ try, no matter what she did, she always had this sort of effortless beauty about her._

_It was sort of amazing._

_Sam glances up at her and rolls her eyes. "Freddie send you to find me?" She asks. It would be just like him. Cause this huge fight between her and Carly, and then send Carly out there, just to try and cheer her up. Way to go, Freddork._

"_Nope." Carly says, walking over and leaning against the brick wall opposite her best friend._

"_Oh so you didn't come out here to fix our 'little argument'?" She says the last part sarcastically._

"_I didn't say I didn't wanna talk about our 'little argument'. I only said that Freddie didn't tell me to come find you."_

"_Good." Sam says, looking away._

"_But Freddie's right."_

_Sam lets out a half-groan, half-yell of frustration._

"_Groan all you want." Carly says, rolling her eyes at her friend's childish behavior._

"_I don't care what his stupid Pearpad app says about me being in love!" Sam shouts, refusing to look Carly in the eye. "I'm not into Freddie like that. You of all people should know that, Carls, you're my best friend!"_

_Carly rolls her eyes. "Oh come on, Sam. Lately, whenever I tell you that Freddie and I are going to do something together, you say you have other stuff to do!"_

"_Well maybe I'm busy…" Sam mumbles, picking at the label on her water bottle. "And so what? That means I'm in love with him?"_

"_Well either that or you hate me!"_

_Sam looks up at Carly, shocked. She blinks a few times in surprise. "I don't hate you." She says quietly._

"_Well you've sure been acting like it!" Carly yells, not noticing the way Sam flinches slightly at the words. "We never see each other anymore! Every time Freddie and I go to do something, you're busy. You never hang out with us unless we're doing iCarly. You never come over to my house anymore! I have a whole ham in my fridge that's been sitting there for at least twelve hours, and no one's eaten it! You know the only reason Spencer buys those is for you."_

"_I know, I just…" Sam starts quietly, but Carly, it seems, wasn't finished._

"_You're never around, Sam. In fact I think today is the first time I've talked to you in two days! What is it? What did I do? What did I do to piss you off?"_

_Sam grits her teeth, her kicked-puppy look disappearing from her face. "Just leave!" She says angrily, pointing the water bottle at the door._

_Carly has to bite her tongue to keep from screaming. "Fine, I'll leave!"_

"_Bye!" Sam says, waving sarcastically at her._

"_But before I go," Carly hurries to say, trying to get a few last words in._

"_That's it." Sam shouts, standing up and advancing on her. "Get out of here before I do a double fist dance on your face!"_

_Carly blinks in surprise. Sam threatened her. Sam _never _threatens her. She would never hurt Carly. It would probably kill her._

_But as Carly looks at her best friend, there's a strange expression on her face, one Carly can't name. She's never seen Samantha Puckett panicked, after all._

_Carly shakes herself, and puts on a brave face, acting tougher than she feels. She's never been on the receiving end of Sam's anger. It was truly intimidating. "You can threaten your double-fist face-dancing all you want! But Freddie's still right." She continues in a softer tone._

"_I know you better than anyone. Never once have I seen you be nice, or be happy, or be in love. Look, I know it's scary for you to put your feelings out there, 'cause you never know if the other person is gonna like you back." Carly reaches out and puts a hand on Sam's arm. She ignores the way it seems to burn._

"_Everyone feels that way!" Sam looks up at her, her bangs falling in her eyes, making her look vulnerable… more vulnerable than Carly's ever seen her. "But you never know what might happen if you don't-" But Carly doesn't get to finish her sentence._

_All of a sudden, Sam's grabbing her hair, and yanking Carly towards her forcefully. Their lips crash together, and Carly is startled, too startled to do anything. So her body responds for her. Sam's kissing her, hard and desperate, teeth nipping, lips moving harshly over the other girl's and Carly is kissing her back just as hard. She's sure her lips will be bruised tomorrow._

_Carly isn't sure how long they kiss, only that she's not pulling away, and neither is Sam. She doesn't register anything except the feel of Sam's hips under her hands (when did she move her hands there?) and the taste of Sam's lips against her own._

_And it isn't anything like how she imagined (not that she's imagined kissing Sam or anything, or even kissing another girl, for that matter, but hypothetically, if she _were _to think about something like that, which she _doesn't_… it wouldn't have been anything like what was happening right now). But it's amazing. Because even though Sam is rough, and demanding, Carly feels every bit of it, and she feels Sam's emotions in the kiss, and everything is soft, and warm, and she never wants it to end…_

_The blonde is the first one to pull away, and Carly is too stunned, too overwhelmed, and far too flushed to even open her eyes. When she finally does manage to force her eyes open, she sees Sam standing in front of her, out of breath, eyes glazed, with her lipstick smudged. Carly wonders if she now has Sam's lipstick painting her own features._

_Carly tries to say something, really she does. She opens and closes her mouth a few times, and manages to stutter out, "I…"_

_But Sam's eyes are welling with tears, and she's looking at Carly, pure terror etched into her skin. "I'm sorry." She whispers, before she's running, running away, and fast, and Carly can't even move to chase after her, because she's still having trouble breathing. She doesn't see Freddie watching them from a classroom window, his eyes wide, and his mouth open in shock._

**CS**CS**CS**

"Carly?" Freddie asks, waving a hand in front of her eyes.

Carly shakes herself, pulling her mind out of its reverie. "What? I'm sorry, I didn't hear you."

"I asked what's going on with you and Sam." He's quiet for a few moments. "Carly… are you gay?" He whispers the last word but even so, it seems horribly loud in the otherwise silent apartment.

"Shhh!" Carly shushes him loudly, looking wildly towards Spencer's room, terrified that he heard. When nothing happens for about ten seconds, Carly turns back towards Freddie, a little angry. "Freddie…" She finally says, her voice pleading.

"No, Carly! We're friends! You don't keep things from your friends! Why didn't you tell me about this? Why couldn't we talk and just… work things out? We could have talked about this together. And if you really are ga-" He starts to say the word but Carly waves him off frantically. Freddie rolls his eyes. "If you really do like Sam, then you could have told me. It would have saved me a lot of years of heartache."

"Freddie… I don't know who I am; I don't know _what _I am. I didn't tell you 'cause… even I don't know what it means. She just… kissed me." _Oh, and no need to mention how good it felt, or how nice she tasted, or how soft she was…_

"Well where is she now?" Freddie asks impatiently, and Carly is almost shocked to realize how much Freddie really does care about Sam.

"I don't know!" Carly yells desperately.

"I've called her, I've texted her-" Freddie trails off, his eyebrows rising in a familiar gesture.

"What?" Carly asks, getting a little excited herself. "That's your idea face. What's your idea?"

"Come here." Freddie says, turning his back and heading towards her computer.

"What's going on?" Because Freddie tends to do things like this, weird, confusing, technology-things, and he never really explains, and sometimes Carly just wishes he were more normal, more like Sam… but then, of course, they wouldn't know how to find her.

"You can track the location of a Pearphone if you know the user's password." Freddie clicks a few times and opens the Pearphone website. "Do you know Sam's password?" He asks.

"Yes." Of course she does. Carly knows everything about Sam. _Except, apparently, that she likes me. Or that she's in love with me… stupid Pearphone and making me think!_

"Well good, tell me!" Freddie says.

Carly blushes without meaning to. "I can't say it out loud." _You mean you don't want to say it out loud,_ the annoying voice in her head points out. Carly internally shushes it. "It's icky." She provides in explanation.

Not really icky, to be fair, just embarrassing. And, in hindsight, it makes a lot more sense…

**CS**CS**CS**

"_Carly Carly Carly!" Sam yells, running into the Shay apartment without knocking. This, of course, isn't anything unusual, and Carly doesn't even bat an eyelash._

"_Yes Sam?" She asks, glancing up from her book._

"_I just got a Pearphone!" Sam shouts excitedly._

_Carly jumps up from the couch. "Really? That's so cool! Oh let me see!"_

"_Here!" Sam says, tossing the phone to Carly, who panics, and almost drops it. She glares at her best friend as the blonde walks into the kitchen and straight towards the fridge._

"_You really should be more careful with your things, Sam. You just got this, what if I had broken it?"_

_Sam shrugs, taking a bite out of a turkey leg. "Nah, I trust you completely. I knew you wouldn't drop it."_

_Carly doesn't even bother to think why her stomach clenches happily at that statement. She must be hungry too, seeing Sam eat that turkey leg._

"_So do you want me to help set up your online account?"_

"_I figured I could just let Freddork do it."_

"_But then he'd know your password!"_

_Sam rolled her eyes. "Fine Carls, you do it for me. But I'm picking the password."_

_Carly shrugged. "Okay." She proceeded to do all the hard things, like the birthdays and security questions, and got everything all registered. Finally it came to the point where it was time for Sam to choose the password._

"_Wanna know what I'm gonna put?" Sam asks, smirking devilishly._

"_But then I'll know your password."_

_Sam roller her eyes again. "Well duh Carls, you're like my best friend, I tell you everything. And I'm probably gonna forget, so I need someone with a better memory than me… Congrats Cupcake, you got the job!"_

_Carly sighed, hiding a smile by pretending to hang her head in disappointment. "Alright Sam, what's your password?"_

_Sam smirks, a twinkle in her eye as she says, "Carly's pussy."_

_If she had been eating anything, Carly was sure she would have choked on it and died. As it was, she almost fell off of her seat. "Wh… what?" She sputters, horrified._

_Sam shrugs, still smiling devilishly. "Well come on, how many people are going to guess that?"_

"_SAM! You can't just use my… my body as your… your password!"_

"_Why not? It's not like anyone's ever going to see it…"_

_Sam ducked as Carly swung her arm around, intending to smack her 'best friend' across the back of the head._

"_Well that was a little rude." Carly grumbled and slumped into the seat. Sam smiled at her. "Now come on Carls, you know I was kidding." Carly perked up. "Of course someone's going to have sex with you… eventually."_

"_So you're keeping it as your password?"_

"_Of course I am. It's fucking genius, isn't it?"_

"_I hate you."_

"_Remember, it's 'Carly's pussy', all lowercase letters, no space, no apostrophe."_

_That was the last time they ever mentioned it._

**CS**CS**CS**

"Fine I won't look." Freddie says, turning around. "You type it in."

"Kay." Carly says, blushing as her fingers move over the keys. _All lowercase, no space, no apostrophe…_ she says to herself as she types. She pauses immediately after she puts it into the computer. Did Sam spend a lot of time thinking about her… like _that_? Is that why that was her password?

_Oh good lord, every time Sam goes on the Pearphone website she thinks about my… _Carly shudders and says, "Eww," refusing to acknowledge the fact that she is more than a little turned on.

Freddie spins back around and starts messing with the computer again.

"Okay, let's find her phone. Locating… tracking… and…" He stops talking, and Carly tries to prod him along. She's too anxious, too worried about her best friend. And Freddie's taking too damn long.

"Where is she?"

"I have to click the items!" He says exasperatedly.

"Well do it!"

"Okay!" He says defensively. "Ah… okay, it's…" they both read the name on the screen and recoil from shock.

Carly's the first one to speak. "Troubled Waters Mental Hospital?" She almost has a heart attack. Oh God, Sam's in a mental hospital. Who put her there? Did the police finally catch up with her? Did Principal Franklin finally call in and report her? Did she tell her mom about the kiss and… But no. Sam wouldn't do that. She wouldn't tell her mom that kind of thing. Besides, Pam was in Tijuana this whole week; she couldn't have sent Sam there.

"Mental hospital?" Freddie repeats, flabbergasted.

Carly just stares at the computer, refusing to believe that her friend has been committed.

The door opens and the boy entering the room announces his presence with a "Gibbehhhh!" Carly and Freddie turn to him. "'Sup people?" He asks.

"We're going to a mental hospital." Carly says, freaking out too much to explain any further.

"YES!" Gibby yells and Carly's glad that at least one of them is going to enjoy this.

Freddie stands up and jogs out the door, while Carly grabs a set of keys on the counter and hurries after him. She remembers to pick up her jacket and yell a quick "Bye Spencer!" Before she's gone, sprinting off down the hallway after her two friends.

All she can think is, _God Sam, please don't be hurt, please don't be hurt, please don't be hurt…_

She doesn't say anything the whole way there.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:**** Still don't own it, though I wish I did.**

**A/N: ****This story is obviously AU, and I guess a bit OC for Sam, though not really. This is sort of how I imagine her being 'off screen'. I took some artistic liberties with the characters and the scenes, but overall, I'm happy with it. I hope you are too.**

iLost My Mind

Chapter 2

She can see through the glass doors when they arrive. She doesn't see Sam. She isn't sure why that upsets her so badly.

Freddie hits the bell, and the nurse sitting behind the desk buzzes them in.

Carly already knows she doesn't like it in here. These people are seriously messed up, and disturbed, and… and they're not like Sam. Sam isn't like them. She's terrified for her friend.

There's a man holding a plastic baby, talking to it like it's his own child, a woman who keeps slamming her hand against the table because she can't solve her puzzle, and she's pretty sure that guy over at the other table is eating his own beard. She shudders and averts her eyes. She doesn't want to think about Sam like this.

"Hi, welcome to Troubled Waters. How can I help you?" The nurse asks, smiling at them sweetly and leaning over the counter.

Carly and Freddie immediately step forward, whilst Gibby drifts off to talk to one of the patients.

"Umm… we're here to see Sam Puckett." Carly says, the inflection in her tone making it sound almost like a question.

"Oh I'm sorry, Ms. Puckett isn't accepting visitors."

"Listen," Freddie starts, "We're like, _really_ close friends with Sam."

"Can we please just talk to her for a minute?" Carly begs. _You mean can I please talk to her for a minute, don't you?_

Carly really fucking hates that annoying voice in her head for always being right.

"Just for a minute?" The nurse asks.

"Promise." Carly says, relief flooding through her. She's going to see Sam…

"No." The nurse says, turning down to her paperwork.

Freddie frowns at the woman's unnecessary rudeness. Carly's just pissed. All she wants is to see her best friend, is that too much to ask? No, she doesn't want to kiss her, or hold her. No, last night she didn't dream about her and Sam, alone in the apartment, clothes being peeled off, fingers buried in warm, wet heat…

Carly shakes herself and fights the blush that's threatening permanent residence on her face. God, she needs to stop thinking so God damn much! Thank God Freddie can't read minds!

She turns and looks at Freddie, the both of them exchanging a confused glance. She grabs Freddie's arm and pulls him over towards Gibby.

"Hey, hey!" Freddie whispers urgently. "Distract the nurse so we can go find Sam."

"Can you do that?" Carly asks, her mind already listing the different places in this hospital Sam could be.

"Uh… Gibbehhh." He says in explanation.

"Cool."

"Good."

Some guy in a terrible maroon patterned shirt walks up to them and starts talking about neutronium cotton and kicking his thighs… and Carly is really not in the mood to be dealing with crazy people. She's after her psychotic, possibly-lesbian best friend; that's all the crazy she needs for a lifetime.

They turn in time to watch Gibby yell and throw himself over the counter and on top of the nurse. Frankly, Carly doesn't want to stick around long enough to see this outcome, no matter how hilarious it may be.

She and Freddie scramble to run in different directions, both taking off to look for their missing best friend.

**CS**CS**CS**

Freddie finds her first. "Excuse me, is Sam Puckett in this…" He starts to call, but trails off as Sam appears from behind an easel. Freddie wants to run up and hug her, but decides he really doesn't want a broken arm, so he doesn't embrace her like he wants to.

"Sam!" He exclaims, closing the door to give them more privacy.

"Hello Freddie." She responds in a calm, creepy, entirely un-Samish way. "What do you want?"

"To find you! What are you doing in this mental institution?" He asks, looking around at her room. He has to admit, it's really not such a bad place. He's been in her bedroom before, and compared to it, this thing is like the fucking Plaza Hotel.

"Finger painting." Sam responds, turning her easel around to show off her painting of a hand. Freddie has to admit, he's a little impressed, but he's also angry; angry at Sam for hiding away in here, while he and Carly have been freaking out by themselves in the real world. God, he was so worried about her.

"What do you think?" She asks him.

"It's a… it's a beautiful finger." He answers, not entirely sure why he's having this conversation.

"Thanks."

"Now who put you in here?" He asks, curious to know so he can go beat them up. Or at least valiantly try to beat them up before huddling in a quivering ball on the ground.

"I put myself in here." She answers, and boy, Freddie was not expecting that.

He can't speak for a few seconds. "_What_?" He asks, unwilling to believe it. Sam Puckett never turns herself in, she never seeks help… even if she _is_ mentally unstable she would never admit it to anyone. The only times Sam does anything involving getting herself into trouble it's for… _Carly._ Of course this is about Carly.

"Why?" He still has to ask, hoping against all hope that he's wrong.

"Because my head's jacked! I'm bonkers!" She yells, starting to sound like the old Sam again. She stutters, trying to form words, to explain herself, but finds it impossible.

And Freddie knows. He knows something's bothering her, hell, he knows exactly _what's _bothering her, but for some reason, he can't say it.

He lets Sam struggle for a few more seconds. Finally she says, "It doesn't matter."

"Is this about you and Carly?" He asks quietly.

Sam's eyes widen with pure terror, and she grips the front of Freddie's shirt tightly. "What did you say, nub?" She asks, menacingly.

"Is this about you and Carly kissing?" He says, finding it deep within himself to be brave.

What happens next is not what he expected. Sam visibly deflates, dropping him to the ground and sitting on her bed, her head buried in her hands.

"Sam?" He asks quietly, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She looks up, and he isn't prepared for the tears he sees in her eyes. Samantha Puckett does not cry. "What did she tell you?" She asks, her voice quiet, but surprisingly strong. And Freddie knows it must be killing her, to think that her best friend would betray her, sell her out like this.

Freddie shakes his head. "She didn't tell me anything. I saw the two of you."

Sam doesn't seem as surprised at this.

Freddie sits down next to her and puts an arm around her shoulder awkwardly. "I have to tell you, I've kissed both of you, and neither one of you has ever kissed me the way you kiss each other. If that helps…"

"It doesn't." Sam mumbles, leaning against his shoulder. "But thanks anyways."

"So why won't you talk about kissing Carly?" He asks, trying to prod her into conversation. He feels Sam stiffen beside him.

"Why do you have to go and ruin perfectly good moments, Freddork? I'm not talking about this with you."

"Come on! You kissed her, big deal, you kiss lots of people!"

Sam stands up from the bed, fury oozing out of every pore. "Shut up." She growls. "This isn't something you can joke about."

"No, but it's something you can run away from? So you're a lesbian…"

"Shut up!" Sam yells, putting her hands over her ears to try and block out the sound.

"And you have a thing for Carly!" He continues to yell over her sounds of protest. "I think it's great!"

"That's because you're a teenage boy and thinking about two girls going at it makes you cum in your pants!"

Freddie winces at the graphic image. He continues his yelling. "There's nothing wrong with it!"

Sam, her hands still over her ears, starts saying, "No no no no no no no…" over and over again, and running around the room, trying to dodge Freddie, who ends up chasing after her, and feeling very childish indeed.

"Why are you freaking out?" He asks, catching up to her and grabbing her arm, pulling her around. "Sam, stop it!"

"Well why aren't _you_ freaking out?" She finally stops twisting away to yell at Freddie. "Why aren't you freaking out? You saw your best friends kissing, your two _girl_ best friends, one of whom you've had a crush on forever… why aren't you freaking out?"

"Because you're my best friends! You've always been my best friends, and I really don't see that changing anytime soon. I love you; I love both of you, no matter whom you love, or who you want to sleep with. If it's each other… well awesome. If not… that's fine too. I just want you to be happy, Sammy. That's it."

Sam's having trouble seeing that. "Accept it Freddie, I've lost my mind!" Freddie doesn't choose to remark on the fact that he's pretty sure Sam's never called him Freddie, not once in his entire life. It would probably just solidify her claim.

"What? You think that just 'cause you like Carly…"

Sam hisses and whips around. "Don't say it out loud!" She jumps on her bed and buries her head in her pillow.

"Who are you worried is gonna hear me?" She doesn't answer that. "And it's alright to say it out loud!"

"No, it's not!" Sam rolls over, keeping her face covered.

"Sam loves Carly!" Freddie yells into the otherwise empty room. Sam scurries off of her bed and launches herself at the boy. "Sam loves Carly! Sam loves Carly!" He manages to yell it a few more times before Sam's hand is clamped firmly over his mouth, almost cutting off his oxygen flow.

He even tries to yell it out through her muffling hand a few times, but he's unsuccessful.

Sam looks truly scared when she's finally gotten Freddie quiet. "Stop." She begs him, her voice breaking on the word. Freddie doesn't know what she's afraid of, what she won't accept. Maybe she still refuses to believe that she actually feels this way for Carly, when everyone and their blind dog has seen it coming for years. But maybe she isn't ready to hear that, either.

It's just then that Carly decides to walk in the door.

"Sam!" She yells, and it's enough. It's enough to make Sam forget every reason she checked herself in here; forget every reason to be angry at Freddie, to hold him captive, to want to kill him for saying the things he's saying. Because it's true, every bit of it. She's in love with Carly, and seeing her now… it's too much.

She drops her hand from Freddie's mouth and runs forward, pulling her oldest friend into a tight embrace. Carly's practically sobbing into her shoulder, gripping her tighter and tighter, and Sam feels like such a fucking _idiot_ for thinking that a mental hospital could possibly cure what she felt for Carly.

Suddenly she realizes what she's doing. All of her excuses, all of her reasons come flooding back to her, not one at a time, but all at once, and she's overwhelmed. She can't think. She remembers why she left, why she can't do this to Carly.

She's Sam Puckett. She isn't good for anything. She's shit at school, she gets into fights, she gets into trouble, she eats too much, she has no manners, she's ugly, her mother doesn't love her, she doesn't have a father, she's mean, and nasty… and all she ever does is hurt people.

Melanie's the good twin. She's the one everyone loves, and everyone likes. She's the twin that her parents wanted. Instead, Melanie got a scholarship to some foreign school, or maybe she's going to school on a boat… Sam can't even fucking remember anymore. And all Seattle got was Sam.

All Sam Puckett is good for is breaking things, and making people cry. And if she broke Carly… if she did that to Carly… she would have to kill herself from the guilt of it all.

The only way to end this, to stop herself from feeling what she was feeling, was to cut all ties with Carly, keep them apart. It was for Carly's own good, after all. Forget the fact that her own heart is breaking into a thousand pieces.

She yanks herself away from Carly, who's still fighting to keep her tears under control.

"Hey Carly, Sam has something she wants to-" and just like that, her hand is back over Freddie's mouth, squeezing the life out of him.

"You, get out!" She yells to Carly, such a stark contrast to the embrace five seconds ago.

Carly advances on her, even as Sam pulls back, Freddie in tow. "Please Sam, can we just…?"

"Licking my hand won't make me let go." She warns Freddie.

"Sam come on, just…" And Carly struggles with Sam for a few moments before releasing Freddie, who gasps for breath.

"Gross!" He exclaims, wiping at his mouth, scrubbing his tongue. "Why does your hand taste like peanuts and mud?"

"'Cause yesterday I was outside playing in the mud eating peanuts." Sam says, shrugging, and Freddie has to wonder if she really has lost her mind. Also, what kind of mental institution lets their patients play in the mud?

"I'm going to leave this room," Freddie says, glancing between the two of them. Between Carly's grateful eyes, and Sam's terrified ones. In a choice between the two of them, he was likely going to choose Carly over Sam, no matter how much he didn't want to. He really wanted to be the mediator, to make them both happy. But he's always had a soft spot for Carly and apparently, both the girls' happiness was impossible.

"Go wash my tongue," he continues, "and you two… _talk._" He emphasizes the word, shooting a meaningful look at Sam. He walks out the door, closing it firmly behind him.

Sam and Carly stand there for a few seconds, Sam's eyes trained on the ground, Carly's eyes glued to Sam. God she looked so small, so helpless… but still she looked beautiful. Samantha Puckett always looked beautiful.

Carly opens her mouth to say something when Freddie's voice comes through from under the door, loud and clear. "I don't hear talking!" And then his footsteps are gone, down the hall, and Carly thinks that it's safe for her to talk.

She opens her mouth to say something, but Sam doesn't give her the chance. "Why did you come here?" The blonde asks, malice lacing her tone.

Carly immediately stiffens up, turning defensive. "To figure out why you checked yourself into a mental hospital."

"Wanna know why?" Sam asks.

"Kinda!"

"Because you're my best friend."

Carly makes a face. "I've been your best friend for over a decade now, Sam, you'd think that if I was the problem, you would have checked in a long time ago."

"You don't get it! You're my best friend, Carly, and what I did… what I did was disgusting!"

Carly recoils, now hurt, as well as angry. "Well then why did you kiss me?"

"Because I…" and Sam drifts off, unable to think of anything. "Because I was scared, and I was alone and… and because I was bored, okay? I was bored and you were there."

Carly snorts, turning away from Sam and shaking her head. "Lie to yourself all you want Sam, but don't you dare lie to me."

"Carly, you're my best friend… you're a _girl_… I can't be… thinking the way I've been thinking."

"And how have you been thinking, exactly?" Sam doesn't answer. "What have you been thinking about, Sam? Come on, tell me!" She prods angrily, getting fed up with her friend's antics.

Sam whips around to face the brunette, anger evident on her face. "You wanna know what I think about, Carly? Do you?"

"Please, enlighten me!"

Sam advances on Carly, surprising the other girl, forcing her to walk backwards until her back hits the wall. "I think about you, every night. I think about pushing you up against a wall, shoving my hand down your pants, and fucking you until you can't walk. Seeing you walk around your apartment _hurts_, so badly, and I have to hold myself back, because otherwise I'd jump you, and take you right against the couch. It's torture, every day, seeing you, and wanting you. And I can't have you."

Carly's breath is coming in short little gasps, her heart pounding at Sam's words. She feels her stomach clench, and her panties soak, and she knows-she _knows _she has to have Sam _now_, or she'll go crazy.

Sam isn't moving, still pinning Carly to the wall. She feels her best friend's body laying against hers, pressing against her in all the right places, and she's worried that she'll lose control before Carly cedes.

She's trying to scare her, to frighten her best friend, to force her away. The only way she can live, _survive_ anymore, is if Carly leaves completely. She has to quit cold turkey. She needs to be away from her, _now_, because if she keeps seeing Carly, touching her, talking to her… she really is going to shove her against a wall and have her way with her. And she won't do that. She won't hurt her.

Carly moves first. Her head shoots forward, and she claims Sam's lips. Sam is too weak to fight her, too weak to think about what this means. Carly's kissing her, and it may very well be the last time, and she can't fight it. She can't fight what it's doing to her. She needs this.

Carly's breath is being forced out of her lungs. She's pushed too hard into the wall, Sam is too close… her breath isn't coming.

Carly flicks her tongue out, running it along Sam's lower lip, seeking entrance, and almost before she realizes it, Sam's mouth is open, her own tongue reaching out to do battle with Carly's.

Her hands are sliding up the back of Carly's shirt, feeling the smooth skin, reveling in it, basking in its warmth. She can't believe this is happening. It must be a dream.

If it's a dream, Sam doesn't want to wake up from it.

Carly's tugging at her hair. She doesn't know whether she's trying to pull her off, or pull her closer, so Sam follows her gut, and moves closer. Carly moans in satisfaction and Sam's aforementioned gut leaps with pleasure.

Carly's inching her legs apart, and Sam can't even begin to think about what this means. She shoves her thigh into the space Carly's just made, and pushes up firmly, applying just the right amount of pressure to make Carly gasp against her lips.

She pulls away, her head buried in Sam's neck, and breathes out, "Oh God, Sam."

It makes Sam pause and evaluate the situation. Her lips are attached to Carly's neck, nipping at it. Her leg is between Carly's and the brunette is grinding down on it. Her hands are up Carly's shirt, rubbing at her stomach, inches away from her breasts.

"Wait, wait." Sam says, pulling away and backing up a few paces.

Carly stays against the wall. She doubts she would be able to stand if she left the support.

Sam gulps. Carly's shirt is halfway up her stomach, her hair wild, and her lips a bright pink.

"What's wrong?" Carly asks, her voice rough with arousal. She desperately wants Sam kissing her again.

"I can't do this."

"I thought you wanted this."

"But _you_ don't want this."

"What are you talking about Sam?"

"Carly you're not gay. Never, in the whole time I've known you, have you ever shown any interest in girls. And as amazing as you are at kissing me… you don't like me. You deserve a good boyfriend, someone like Fredreka."

"Sam, I was kissing you twelve seconds ago."

Sam blushed and looked down. "I know."

"I wouldn't be kissing you like that if I didn't want you."

Sam's head shoots up, her eyes wide. "You mean that?"

"Have I ever kissed anyone else that way? Have I ever let anyone else touch me like that? I want you Sam. It took me until right now to realize it, but I want you."

"You don't… you don't know what you want."

"How can you say that?"

"Carly I've had months to figure this out, to think this over… to accept it. You can't just decide you like me after one kiss that happened three days ago. You have to think. I won't be like Freddie. I won't let you convince yourself that you like me because it's easy, or convenient, or I'm something new you want to try out. I won't be that girl."

"Sam… it's not a big deal. So we've kissed, twice… who cares?"

"Carly… I care. And yeah, we've kissed twice. _You_ kissed _me_ one of those times. Look, I like you Carly. I really, _really_ like you. Don't pass it off like it's nothing."

"Sam I… I don't know if I can do this… relationship thing."

"A minute ago you were jumping at the chance to make out with me!"

"But you were right! I needed to think, and now that I've thought a little bit… I don't know if I can be your girlfriend. I've never liked a girl before, I don't even know if I like one now. I just… God, where did you learn to kiss like that?"

Sam shrugs, but can't help but feel immensely proud of herself.

"I don't know if I can be your girlfriend Sam. I just don't know if I can do it."

Sam sits down on her bed, and Carly can practically see her heart sinking.

"I need time to work this through Sam." She says, hoping her friend can hear the pleading in her voice. "I'm not saying no. I just need time."

Sam sighs. "I know. And if I'm honest, I never even expected a maybe."

"But Sam," Carly says, pushing off the wall and going to stand in front of her, "no matter what happened that night, and no matter what happens between us, or what you're feeling right now… you're not any more mentally unstable than you have been your whole life!" She ends with a grin.

The tension between them dims significantly. Sam shoots her a little half-smile back. "You really mean that?"

"I do." Carly says, holding out her hand for Sam to take. The blonde does, but warily, getting to her feet slowly.

"I'm gonna hug you now," Carly says, "but as your best friend. Got it? Because I missed you, and you scared the crap out of me."

Sam smiles and allows Carly to pull her into a hug. She reaches her hand up and combs her fingers through the brunette's straight hair, untangling a few of the knots. "We probably don't want Winifred seeing us looking like we just made out."

Carly chuckles. "It's not like he doesn't know."

Sam shrugs. "That's true, but I don't want to supply his spank-bank for him."

Carly frowns. "What's a 'spank-bank'?"

"I'll tell you when you're older, kid." And just like that, they make a silent agreement to put whatever problems they're going through on a back burner, and focus on more pressing issues.

"Let's get out of here." Sam says, grabbing her backpack from her bedside table. Carly reaches over and grabs Sam's hand, locking their fingers together. Neither girl says anything. They think it will be easier that way.


	3. Chapter 3

iLost My Mind

Chapter 3

When Carly and Sam come sprinting into the main lobby, they immediately drop hands. It's not really anything except instinct that makes them do it, fear of what Freddie will say, of who will see them… they're subconscious fears, but fears none the less.

Gibby seems to have tricked his way out of trouble, and he and Freddie are at a table, talking to the man in that horrible maroon shirt that wanted Carly to kick him. She doesn't bother asking what they're doing talking to him.

"Winifred!" Sam calls, jogging over to him. "Come on, we're blowing this joint."

"Excuse me!" The shrill voice of the nurse cuts in and Carly almost groans. Of course, it _couldn't_ be easy for them to get Sam back. "You can't just leave."

Sam looks at Carly, almost offended at the audacity of this nurse. She's Sam Puckett. She does whatever the hell she wants. She says as much. "I can do whatever I want."

They make a move towards the door, but suddenly an alarm sounds, and red lights flash, and a huge metal grate closes over the front entrance. Carly grabs Sam's hand on impulse.

A whole troop of security guards marches in, and Carly feels Sam straighten up beside her, preparing for a fight.

"What's wrong?" One of them asks.

"That patient's trying to escape." The nurse says with an ugly smirk on her face. Carly doesn't like the word escape. Escape implies that Sam is being held prisoner, against her will. Carly looks around at the guards and the blocked off doors and windows. Maybe that's exactly what's happening here.

"I'm not trying to _escape_." Sam says, because it's true. She isn't trying to escape. She's just trying to leave. There was nothing sneaky about her getaway plan. She was just going to walk out the front door. If she had wanted to escape, she would have been gone by now.

"She checked herself in here." Carly exclaims, turning on the guards. All she wants is Sam home. Is that really too much to ask?

"And now I'm checking myself out." Sam finishes. "Now go get my bag, or no tip." She taunts. Carly closes her eyes. That was taking it too far. Now they'll never let her leave.

She isn't wrong. "You're under eighteen years of age," one of the guards says. Carly has to fight the urge to argue with him. Barely under eighteen. She'll be there in three months. "You can't leave this place without permission from a _parent_."

Carly hates that he used that word. If he had said guardian, it would have been no sweat, Carly could get Spencer down here in ten minutes. But a parent… Sam's parents weren't really parents. Her mother was always off to God knows where half the time, and drunk to the point of unconsciousness the other half of the time. Her dad was… Well, he wasn't around. Sam didn't have any parents.

"Dude, my mom's in Tijuana having laser hair removal!" Sam says, hoping that he'll take pity on her and let her go. If she had to wait for her mom to get back, she would be stuck in here for another week. Even she gets tired of amazing Quesadillas and old people telling her funny stories.

"Where's your father?"

"You tell me!" Sam shouts, and Carly has to put a hand on her arm to calm her. Sam hates people mentioning her father; it's an incredibly sore subject with her.

"Sir you have to let her leave!" Carly begs, and then pulls out the only stop she has left. "We're doing iCarly tomorrow night." She hates name-dropping, but it usually works in the past, so she figures she might as well try it. Anything to get Sam back.

"I-what?" The guard asks, and Carly's heart sinks.

"It's a popular web show." Freddie offers.

"It can't be that popular if I've never heard of it." He says, crossing his arms over his chest.

"It's not for old people." Sam growls out through clenched teeth.

The guard bristles. "Look," He says, walking towards Sam, "She stays," he grabs her arm and pulls her forward, causing Sam to stumble, off balance.

"Dude!"

"Hey!" Carly protests, but he doesn't listen.

"You people leave!" He point to the door, the metal grate lifting. Two security guards surge forwards to push her, Freddie, and Gibby out the door, while two big guys in scrubs grab Sam.

"Sam!" Carly yells, twisting and trying to fight them off. But she's never been strong enough, not like Sam. She gets swept away. "Hey paws off!" She yells, turning around and trying to get a glimpse of her blonde-haired, very confusing best friend.

Their eyes lock for a moment, just a moment, but it chills Carly. Because Sam doesn't look defiant, the way she usually would if she was getting manhandled by people much larger than her; she looks defeated, and sad. And Carly thinks, with a sinking feeling in her stomach, that she's the cause of that look.

**CS**CS**CS**

Walking into her apartment to see Spencer standing in the kitchen, talking to a bunch of middle-aged white women, was not exactly what Carly was hoping for. She was tired, she was confused, she was worried about Sam… she needed her best friend back. And God, did she miss kissing her.

Maybe it wouldn't be the best idea for Carly to be making out with Sam right now, but boy, did she want to…

She stood there, next to Gibby and Freddie, her hands in her pockets, waiting for her brother to say something.

"Hey." He finally says.

"Hey. Umm… are those your book-club ladies?" She asks, fighting a smirk. It's so easy to make fun of him…

He's quiet for a few seconds. "Yes." He finally says, dropping his gaze and looking ashamed.

"You guys talking about a book?" Freddie asks, knowing what the answer will be.

"No." Spencer says, now looking a little bit annoyed. "We're… just… exchanging recipes."

"Recipes for what?" Gibby asks.

"Fruit tarts." Spencer says, and none of the teens can stop the chortle of laughter that shoots out of them. Oh God Spencer, why do you do the things you do?

"Okay everyone out!" Spencer calls, ushering the women out the back door. "No more fruit tarts for today! Bye-bye ladies!" He calls, and makes sure that he says goodbye to every single one. Spencer is nothing if not a gracious host. Right before he shuts the door her calls out, "See you next week at Stephanie's!" And Carly has to shake her head, smiling slightly. She really does love this big dork.

He turns his head and sees his younger sister, and her two friends, and knows that they'll make fun of him. "Just…" He holds up his hand, his request mostly silent.

The teens do what he wishes, and don't say anything.

"So, were you like kidding when you texted me, 'with Sam at Mental Hospital'?"

Carly feels a strange dropping sensation when he says those words. She _was_ with Sam… and she was almost _with_ Sam there. If Sam hadn't pulled back… Carly has no doubt in her mind that they would have ended up sleeping together.

"Nope." Freddie, wonderful Freddie, answers Spencer. And it's enough to pull Carly back to the conversation.

"And she's still there." Carly sighs, leaning her head on her hand.

"Can I have some fruit tarts?" Gibby asks. Carly rolls her eyes.

"Sure." Spencer says, not looking up from his phone. Gibby smiles and walks toward the table containing the fruity treats.

"So… why is Sam at Troubled Waters?"

"She thought she was insane after-" Freddie starts, but Carly cuts in.

"After she… saw some bacon and didn't immediately go to eat it." Freddie shoots her a look, sort of angry, sort of calculating. Carly doesn't meet his gaze.

"Ahhh." Spencer says, nodding in understanding. "Wait… so she _wants_ to be there?"

"Not anymore!" Freddie says.

"And they won't let her leave without a _parent_ going there and signing her out." Carly stresses the word parent. She really fucking hates Sam's parents.

"Well we know tons of parents!" Spencer says, as if Carly is the one who is being ridiculous.

Carly shoots him a look, and she can practically feel Freddie mirroring her expression next to her.

When Spencer still doesn't seem to get it, Carly takes pity on him. "One of _Sam's_ parents."

"Oh." Spencer looks down, seeing their dilemma.

Carly sighs and turns away, heading towards the couch. "I can't believe poor Sam's stuck in that place!" _And I'm stuck out here._ Her mind adds quietly.

"Well how are we gonna do iCarly tomorrow night?" Freddie asks, and Carly thinks he really needs to reevaluate his priorities. He's worried about their stupid web show, while Sam is in a fucking _mental hospital_? She doesn't give a fuck about their web show. But maybe that will get Freddie and Spencer working harder, so…

"GUYS!" Spencer shouts, "Duh. Just get some lady to go there with you and _say_ she's Sam's mom and have her sign Sam out."

Carly and Freddie look at each other, and they know they're thinking the same thing.

They turn back to Spencer, and he catches on. "NO!" He flat out refuses. "I am _not_ dressing up like Sam's mom."

"We weren't gonna ask you to." Carly says, knowing what Spencer's reaction will be. He's sort of like a big, lanky man-child in attitude.

"I _wanna_ do it!" He whines. Carly smirks. Sam would be proud of her deviousness. Her heart lurches. _Sam_.

"Fine." Freddie says.

"Okay." Carly smiles at her brother.

"I'll get my boobs!" Spencer says, grabbing his chest in demonstration. He runs off towards the elevator and pushes the button, standing straight until it arrives. He could have always just taken the stairs… but then he wouldn't be Spencer.

**CS**CS**CS**

She can see her. Carly can see Sam, sitting at a table, not twenty feet in front of her. When the nurse buzzes them in, she has to stop herself from sprinting over and embracing her friend.

"Uhh, it's about time!" Sam says, standing up from her table. "You guys got my mom?" She asks. Her own heart is thundering. She had missed Carly terribly. She'd only been gone a few hours, but it had been like torture to Sam. Had Carly felt the same? Was she regretting everything that had happened between them?

"Sort of." Carly says. All she can think about is Sam's lips, parted slightly, her breasts, rising and falling gently with her breath… Carly gulps. Bad thoughts, these are bad thoughts to be having.

Sam raises an eyebrow in question. Carly squints and shrugs, while Freddie clears his throat, and says, "Uh… in here Mrs. Puckett."

And in walks Spencer, short blonde wig on his head, stuffed into a pair of Carly's jeans, his boobs fixed to his chest, a flowery blouse over them, and a purse slung over his shoulder.

Carly closes her eyes, not wanting to see this. Why didn't they just get a woman to do it? Why didn't they think of that? Why didn't they just ask someone to do it… _anyone_ except Spencer? He was so obviously a man… and Carly realizes she may just have botched her only chance at getting Sam back.

Sam's shoulders sag, and she shoots Carly a look. She knows, too. She knows that this won't work. But they still have to try.

"Hello Sam." Spencer says in a false, nasally voice. Carly winces. "Blah." He says, and Carly wants to scream at him for acting like this. Because yes, that is exactly something Sam's mom would say, but not the kind of thing a _regular_ mother would say. And the people here don't know Sam's mom. He's going to blow their cover.

Sam leans around Spencer to glare at Carly. All she can do is shrug, and silently beg her brother to play it cool. But he isn't an actor. He never was. And he never responded well under pressure.

"Hey _Mom_." Sam says, sarcasm dripping from her voice. Why can no one in Carly's life just learn to play it cool? "How'd your laser hair removal go?"

"Great! Now I'm smooth as a dolphin." He's acting drunk. Carly's eyes widen as she looks at Sam, who is turning red rapidly. Carly can practically see smoke streaming from her ears. He shouldn't have done that. Sam hates that her mother is an alcoholic. She'll do anything she can to forget it. How could Spencer have done that? How could he have just… treated it like some big joke? Sam would kill him when she got out of here.

Sam's grinding her teeth together to keep from saying anything.

"Ma'am." Freddie says, clueless as ever, running interference. "This is Sam's mother." He grabs Spencer, leading him forwards.

"That's right." Spencer says.

"She's here to sign Sam's release papers." He turns to Spencer, prompting him.

"Yes… release papers." He slurs, swaying over to the desk. Sam's hands are clenching at her sides. Carly slips her hand over Sam's, and squeezes gently. Some of the tension leaves Sam, and she relaxes. Carly knows that she's angry, and frustrated, and it warms Sam's heart that her friend knows her so well.

"Alright." The nurse says, grabbing a clipboard. "You'll need to fill out this form and sign at the bottom of page two."

Spencer grabs the clipboard, hits it against the desk once, and says, "Yeah of course" as he pulls a pen out of between his cleavage.

And Carly's starting to believe that this will work. She's starting to think that maybe, just maybe, they can get Sam out of this. This place does have poor security. They didn't ask for a picture ID, or proof of birth, or insurance… or anything. How could that be? What kind of place was this?

But one word… just one word, has Carly's heart stopping.

"Spencer?" Someone says, and Carly closes her eyes, her hand gripping Sam's tighter than she thought possible. _No, no, no, no, please no. We're so close. Please, please no._

Spencer laughs nervously, and says, "No, no I'm Pam Puckett." Why did he even answer? If he hadn't said anything… they're in a fucking _mental hospital_, if he hadn't responded, maybe the nurses would have thought that he was schizophrenic, or something…

"A _woman_." He adds, and Carly curses under her breath. God fucking damn it!

"Spencer come on!" The bearded man exclaims. "It's me, Gary Bervan?" Judging by the look on Spencer's face, he does not recognize this man. "I went to Law School with you for three days!"

Carly growls from her place next to Sam. That was like six years ago! Who the fuck remembers three days from six years ago?

Spencer laughs again, the nerves evident in both his voice and body language. "No no, you have me confused with someone _else_, that _isn't_ me, Pam Puckett! Goodbye!" And then he makes a motion like he's tipping his hat, and _fuck_, they should have had someone else do this.

"You're still hilarious." Gary what's-his-name says, and Carly's praying to every God she can think of to make him leave, get him out of here. _Please, we're so close._

"Hey what up with the wig?" And then he starts tugging at it, pulling at Spencer's fake hair, and Carly feels like crying.

"No, no don't pull my hair!" Spencer calls, desperately trying to fight him off. It doesn't work. And as Gary pulls the wig off his head, Spencer drops character, and screams, "Quit it Gary!" in his regular, man-voice. And if it had been Carly, she would have pretended like the wig was some sort of defense against his bad hair, or something, because someone who has laser hair removal is not comfortable with their body. But she isn't Spencer, and their plan is fucked.

Spencer throws his purse in his anger, and the alarms are going off again, and the gate's closing, and Carly thinks that she may actually cry, now.

The same guards come back in. "Okay, okay, _now_ what's going on?"

"That man's impersonating a woman." Carly could kill that bitch, right here, right now. If only she was that kind of violent person.

Sam groans. "I just wanna get out of here!" Carly can't agree more. She just wants Sam. That's it.

"You can't leave without a parent's approval!" This guard is whining more than Spencer. He's acting like a petulant three year old. The adults in Carly's life always seem to be childish.

"Listen!" Carly cuts in. "We have to do iCarly tomorrow! Just let Sam out!"

One of the patients standing behind them screams, "I love iCarly!" and all of the mental patients cheer in agreement. Maybe their web show will save them after all.

"See how many mental patients love iCarly?" Sam says, turning her voice a little bit pleading.

"Just let her leave!" Freddie says. When Freddie starts getting exasperated, then you know things are serious.

"Not until _her_ mother walks through _that_ door and signs a release." And Carly understands why they have to do this, really she does, but if they understood Sam's life, her home situation… they wouldn't be waiting for her mother. Spencer is more of a fit guardian than Pam Puckett.

"But…" Freddie flounders for words. Finally he sighs in defeat. "Alright, why don't we just do iCarly from here tomorrow?"

"You are _not _doing a web show from this Hospital." Fuck that bitch.

"Let 'em do iCarly!" The first woman shouts, and again, her opinion is met with resounding cheers all around.

One man says "Yeah!" about seven different times, in seven different voices, and Carly needs to get Sam out of this place. She isn't like these people.

A very large black man steps forward, a gas mask slung over his neck, and he says, "You let 'em do iCarly here, or I'mma tell everyone your secret." His voice is deep and reverberating, and he's the one who will swing their case, Carly knows.

The guard tries to look unaffected, but Carly can see right through him. "What secret?"

"You know." The black man says. It must be terrible, if it's enough to make this guard let them do their show. Carly doesn't try to think about it.

"I say they do iCarly right here!" He says with false enthusiasm, and Carly sighs in relief. At least now she can come back and see Sam again, spend time with her.

Everyone around them applauds, but Carly's just looking at Sam.

As everyone celebrates, Sam gestures with her head towards a deserted hallway, and Carly follows her friend, the noise of the people behind them diminishing greatly with each step.

They go a few paces past where they stop hearing noise. Sam turns around to face Carly. Neither one of them speaks.

"I missed you." Sam whispers out.

Carly gulps, but nods. "I missed you too."

"Did you figure it out?"

Carly shakes her head. "No. I haven't really had time to think… you know…"

"Yeah. Yeah, I get it."

It's quiet for a few seconds. Carly rubs her neck uncomfortably. "I've been thinking about… you know…" Carly swears she sees Sam blush.

"Oh. Have you?"

"Yeah. It was… it was really nice. Have you thought about what would have happened if…"

"Yeah. I've thought about it."

It's Carly's turn to blush. "Sam why are we being so weird?"

"What do you mean?"

"Is this how it's going to be with us from now on? Are we always going to be so… awkward?"

Sam sighs and runs a hand through her hair. "I don't want to be awkward with you. I want to be…" She drifts off.

"What? You wanna be friends? More than friends? You wanna be my girlfriend?"

Sam blushes harder. "I don't know Carls. I want to be… I want you to be in my life. Now it's just… it's up to you."

"Please don't put this on me Sam. I can't be in charge of our future."

Sam looks desperate now. "Carly I need to know what you want from us. I _know_ what I want."

"Then just tell me! Please, just tell me what you want me to say!"

"I can't do that!" They're both louder now. Not really yelling-loud, but more frustrated-talking loud. "Carls please. If I tell you what I want you to do, then you'll do it, just because I asked."

"But I want _you_, Sam."

"How can you know that? How can you possibly know what you want?" Carly moves forward as if to embrace her, but Sam pulls back. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to kiss you."

"God you're so fucking bipolar! Carly you can't decide whether or not you like me, you're not allowed to kiss me!"

Carly sticks out her lower lip, pouting. "But kissing you is all I've thought about all day."

Sam groans and turns away, wrapping her arms around herself, as if holding herself back. "Stop."

"You're driving me crazy. I'm confused, and scared, and tired, and upset, and all I can think about is your lips, the way you smell… if we can just try once more, if I can just… be prepared, so I can analyze…"

Sam whips around, her eyes full of fury. "This isn't a fucking science experiment! I'm not the dork! If you want to kiss someone, kiss him!" And Sam turns on her heel, stomping off in the direction of the others.

"Sam!" Carly calls, chasing after her. "SAM!" She tries again, but Sam won't turn around. Carly chases her blonde friend into the crowd of people in the lobby, which includes Spencer and Freddie. Sam won't look at her.

"Sam where are you going?" Freddie calls as she storms past.

"Ask your girlfriend!" Sam yells at him. She's gone the next second, disappearing through the empty halls in the direction of her room.

Freddie turns to Carly, confused. "What was that about?"

Carly bites her lip, her brow furrowing in anguish. "I said something. I did something wrong… fuck!"

"Carls?" Freddie asks as Carly walks quickly towards the exit, grabbing Spencer's hand on the way out.

Freddie doesn't know what Carly did, but she's Carly; he's inclined to believe that whatever's wrong between them is really Sam's fault. And he knows how this whole Sam thing is messing with her. Actually, he's sort of angry at Sam. She's confusing Carly, and judging by the way both of them are acting… she may very well be stealing Carly away from him. That has to change.

He sends Carly a quick text message.

_Go ahead w/o me. Staying 2 talk 2 Sam._

_Freddie_

He nods at his phone, hits send, and stalks off towards Sam's room. He may be supportive of Sam's choices and lifestyle, but fuck if he's going to go down without a fight.

And after all, the least he can do is to make sure Sam knows how precious Carly is, how special she is. If he's going to lose, he's going to make sure Sam deserves to win.


	4. Chapter 4

iLost My Mind

Chapter 4

Freddie doesn't bother to knock on her door. He knows Sam won't answer either way. So when he opens up the door to her room, he isn't surprised to see her flopped on the bed, her pocket knife out (what kind of mental hospital lets you keep a pocket knife on you? Then again, she _is_ Sam, and she's always been good at smuggling). She's chipping away at the headboard of her bed, and he knows that she's aware of his presence. Her refusal to acknowledge him is entirely purposeful.

"So are you going to admit you're gay yet?" He says, leaning against the door, arms folded over his chest.

She doesn't glance up from her vandalism. "Fuck off, Winifred."

"Fuck you, Sam. Are you gay or what?" Yeah, so she may be one of his best friends, but he's always sort of hated her. No one will deny that. He's hated her, but loved her at the same time… does that make sense? Sometimes, being blunt with Sam was the easiest way to get through to her.

"What's it matter to you?"

"If you're planning on dating my girl-"

Sam looks up, spluttering with indignation. It's always been her job to defend Carly. "Your girl? _Your_ girl? I'm sorry, since when has Carly ever been _your_ girl?"

Freddie's quiet for a few second, before relenting. "Okay, so mine in theory."

Sam lets out a humorless snort, shutting her knife to look him full in the face, trying to hurt him, to make him leave. It's what she does best, after all. "Fuck off Freddork. I've gotten farther with her than you have in your dreams." How dare he stake a claim on Carly, like she's some piece of meat? And that's saying something, because Sam _loves_ meat. Carly deserves more than that.

"I'd prefer if we didn't discuss that." Freddie says, his tone icy. "What's wrong? Why was Carly so upset?"

"I don't know, maybe because she was being a prick. She doesn't know if she wants me, she doesn't know what she feels, but she still wants to make out with me, to 'experiment'. It makes me fucking sick." Sam spits the words, flipping her knife open once more. This time she uses it to pick the rubber off her shoe.

Freddie, never one to say a bad word about his beloved Carly, interjects, "Sam come on. She's just confused. You can't blame her for that."

"But I _can_! She doesn't get to be confused! She doesn't get to twist my heart around! She doesn't get to mess with my life!" It's frustrating for Sam. Carly Shay, who has been the center of her universe since they first met, has only become more and more prominent in her life. And now that Sam's discovering all these new feelings… it's like every time she breathes, her body whispers 'Carly, Carly', and all her heart is beating is, 'Carly, Carly'. And it's driving her fucking mental.

"She's not messing with your life! At least not on purpose! Don't you understand how difficult this must be for her?"

Sam puts her face in her hands, pulling at her hair. "Do you know how long it took me to accept this part of myself? Do you know the kinds of things I've had to go through? Do you know how many hundreds of dollars I've charged to my cell phone calling Melanie to work this shit out? Do you Geek? Because I don't think you do."

**CS**CS**CS**

_The phone rings twice before a voice, _her_ voice, picks up on the other end. "Hello?" The voice asks, so very much like her own._

"_Mel? It's me."_

"_Sammy! How are you? I haven't heard from you in like three weeks!"_

"_Yeah, yeah I'm okay. Listen, sorry if I skip pleasantries, but there's something I really have to talk to you about."_

"_Okay, shoot."_

"_So you know the dork? Fredward?"_

"_Who, your techie friend Freddie? Yeah of course I know him. How is he? Does he miss me?"_

"_Please Mel, not now." Sam takes a deep breath. "When did you know that you liked him?"_

_Melanie squeals over the phone, and Sam grimaces. "Oh my God, oh my God! I knew it! I totally knew it! You are so in love with him! Oh Sammy, I'm so sorry! If I had known, I never would have done anything with-"_

"_Oh God, don't make me hurl. Dorkwad wishes he could get someone like me."_

"_Well technically… he already did…"_

"_Jesus Mel, so not the point!"_

"_Well alright, then what were you talking about? If you aren't in love with Freddie, what are you talking about?"_

"_I just… you knew pretty early right?"_

"_Knew what, Sam?" Melanie laughs quietly into the phone. "You're making absolutely no sense."_

_Sam sighs. "You knew you liked boys early, right?" The other end of the phone is silent. Sam's heart clenches in fear. "I mean I just… you know what, forget it. Just forget I said anything. I'll call you later, then I guess-"_

"_NO! No Sam, don't go! I'm sorry I just… I wasn't expecting this at all. So you… you're trying to say that… that you're…"_

"_I'm not saying that I'm anything." Sam says quickly. "I don't know what's happening. I just need to talk to someone about it. And you know that I can't talk to Mom about shit like this."_

"_What about Carly? Isn't she like, your bestest friend in the world?" Sam doesn't answer. "Holy crap. You love her."_

_Sam groans into the phone. "I should not have fucking called you."_

"_No Sam it's amazing! You know how cool this is? I totally have a gay twin sister!"_

"_I never said that I was gay!"_

"_Oh please Sam. Come on. You are _so_ gay! Look at the clothes you wear, or your fascination with meat products, or how violent you are! You're so aggressive. Cut your hair short and you would be so butch!"_

"_Mel… well I'm glad you're so into this idea, but I'm not entirely… I mean I don't…"_

"_No, I get it. You're not ready to fully accept your new identity."_

"_Oh for Christ's sake Mel! I'm telling you that I want to fuck my best friend and you're ready to throw me a fucking parade!"_

_Melanie clears her throat. "Well… uh… that's a little graphic…"_

_Sam rolls her eyes. "You really need a boyfriend."_

"_And you need a girlfriend."_

_Sam blushes on the other end, thankful that her sister can't see her. "Now hold up. I didn't say I wanted a girlfriend. I just want… I just want Carly."_

"_I know Sammy, I know."_

_Sam's quiet for a few seconds. "I don't wanna talk about this anymore."_

"_That's fine."_

_Another couple of seconds go by. "You're the only person in the world that I let call me Sammy, you know that right?"_

"_That's totally not true."_

"…_Okay maybe not, but you're the only one that I don't mind."_

"_I love you too, sis. Call me, whenever you need to talk."_

"_Yeah, okay."_

"_And Sam?"_

"_Yeah?"_

"_I really am proud of you. I know that this wasn't easy. And I want you to know that I support you no matter-"_

"_Yeah yeah I get it, you love me, now hang up before your sappiness rubs off on me."_

_She can hear her sister grinning, even across the phone. "Bye Sammy."_

"_Talk to you later Mel."_

**CS**CS**CS**

So maybe Sam exaggerated the difficulty of her coming-out process to her sister. She didn't lie about the phone calls though. Many a night was spent talking on the phone to Melanie, scheming and hatching plans on how exactly Sam was going to try and win Carly over. They never did suggest 'grab her out of the blue and shove your tongue down her throat'. Sam wonders why, because it seems to be really affective.

Great, even her internal thoughts are sarcastic.

"Sam, I know how difficult this has been for you. You've had so long to work this out, Carly just started three days ago. Don't you think she's a little frustrated?"

"I know she's frustrated! Okay?" Sam sighs. "God knows I've been frustrated too! But she isn't… she isn't doing it right!"

Freddie has to laugh. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"She isn't supposed to… to care! I've thought this scenario over in my head a dozen times, a hundred times, and she isn't supposed to care! She's supposed to push me away for a few days until finally, one day, she tells me she doesn't want anything to do with me, and then she'll leave, and I can finally have some peace."

"Sam…" Freddie chuckles again, "you can't plan this kind of thing! You can't possibly know what Carly wants, or what she's going to do. You never thought that she could feel the same way, did you? You never expected her to want you back, as badly as you want her."

"I can't." Sam says, her throat tight, tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes. "I can't think about that. It's too much…"

"You haven't let yourself _hope_, have you?"

Sam laughs humorlessly. "Hope? Hope for what?"

"Maybe hope that Carly could love you back!"

Sam shakes her head, refusing to look at Freddie. "She doesn't love me Freddie. No one's ever loved me."

"I love you." He says quietly.

Sam laughs again. "Shut it nub. You love Carly. You always have."

Freddie sighs. "Well, at least we have something in common, don't we?"

Sam shakes her head. "We are a bunch of sad sacks, aren't we?"

"But I don't have a chance with her. I never had a chance with her."

"What and you think I do? Come on, even a dweeby _boy_ is better than a fuck up _girl_. Hell, _any_ boy is better than _any_ girl."

"But you don't get it Sam! You're not a fuck up, and people love you. I wasn't lying. I do love you. And I know Spencer loves you, and Carly loves you, too."

"Maybe you shouldn't. Maybe I had the right idea putting myself in here. At least in here I can't hurt anybody."

"Is that what you think you do? Is that all you think you're good for, hurting people?"

"I hurt you all the time!"

Freddie rolls his eyes. "Well yeah, but you're Sam. And you never _really _hurt me."

"I beat you up. Like… all the time…"

"So? That stuff heals. What would you have done if Carly had turned you down three days ago? If she had turned you down today? What would have happened? Your heart would have broken."

"That shit heals too." Sam says coldly.

"No it doesn't. We both know it doesn't. Why can't you just be happy?"

"She'll say no. I know she'll say no."

Freddie groans in frustration. "God damn it Sam! You're acting like you don't want her to say yes!"

"Well what the fuck am I supposed to do? Spend my time dreaming and hoping for Carly to suddenly decide that she's in love with me? What would that do? It would get my hopes up, and then when she shuts me down and I fall… it would be that much worse."

Sam flops down on the bed, her gaze on the ceiling, vacant. Freddie sits down next to her. "So you're just going to pretend that Carly won't be your best friend anymore, won't like you at all after this? That's no way to live."

"It's easier, though."

"But whoever said it was better?" Sam doesn't answer him. Freddie sighs and gets up. "I'm leaving, now. We'll be back tomorrow to do iCarly. Get your head on straight before then, okay?"

"Always a pleasure, Freduardo."

Freddie doesn't say goodbye.

As he's walking out of the mental hospital, he can't help but feel irate. Sam's crazy; it's the only explanation. She's out of her mind. She's not thinking clearly, and the things she's afraid of… they're completely unfounded.

Though he may have been a little short with her. He didn't really accomplish all he'd set out to accomplish when he went to find her. But God she's just so… _Sam._

Freddie sighs and kicks at a pebble as he makes his way towards his apartment. She's Sam. She's never been the most logical person, now has she?

He knows two things: she's in love with Carly, and she's terrified of what that means.

He can't blame her. Loving Carly is a terrifying thing.

And he should know.

**CS**CS**CS**

The place is dark when Carly and Spencer arrive home. The anger and grief she had felt immediately after her confrontation with Sam has drifted away, and in its place, is fatigue.

Spencer doesn't even bother to turn on the lights. It's late, and they're both tired. And Carly is slightly amused that Spencer is still in his Pam Puckett clothes.

"I'm going to bed." Carly says, her voice tiny and quiet.

"Okay. We're going back there tomorrow, right? To see Sam?"

"Yeah. We're going to see Sam."

Carly turns and takes a few steps towards the stairs. "Hey." Spencer says, reaching out and taking her arm. "Are you okay kiddo?"

Carly turns back to him, a faraway look in her eyes. "Yeah. I'm fine Spence, really. I just need some sleep."

Spencer shrugs. "Well okay. If you ever wanna talk…"

"I know where to find you."

Carly's room is dark, mercifully so. It's late, but early, too. It should be too early for her to go to sleep, but her bones are aching with the strain of the day, her brain crying out for a few blissful hours of unconsciousness.

When she lies down in her bed, it's cool. It feels nice on her flushed skin. She can't help but think about the last time she felt comfortable in this bed. These past few nights have been difficult and sleepless for her, because of her worry for her best friends' whereabouts, and her own confusion at what had happened between them.

Only four nights ago, she had been comfortable, and happy, and warm in this bed.

**CS**CS**CS**

_Sam sleeps over a lot, more so now that she's older and her mom doesn't bitch at her for staying out on a school night. Like her mom even cares._

_She has her own drawer at Carly's now. Actually, more like two drawers, and half a closet, and most of the floor. Sam doesn't really pick up her clothes._

_She sticks her head into Carly's room, her toothbrush hanging out of her mouth, a little toothpaste dripping down her chin. It's adorable._

"_So why are we going to sleep so early again?"_

_Carly rolls her eyes. "I told you already. We're going to be up all night tomorrow, and I know how cranky you get without your beauty sleep."_

_Sam pauses in her motion. "Well that's fair." She says around her toothbrush._

_Carly laughs. "Go back to the bathroom Sam. You can come back in once I don't need to worry about my carpet getting all sticky and toothpastey."_

_Sam turns and disappears from the doorway a second later. Sam has become such a normal part of her night-time routine that Carly feels weird every time Sam _isn't_ here before she goes to bed._

_Carly pulls off her tee shirt and jeans, digging through her drawers for a long shirt to wear to bed. She's bent over in only her bra and panties when Sam walks in._

"_Hey, so about the dork's project for tomorrow, do I have to-" Sam stops speaking abruptly, and Carly turns around to see what's wrong._

_Sam's standing in the middle of the room. Her face frozen, her mouth clenched shut._

"_What's wrong Sam?" Carly asks, looking down. "Does my bra not match?"_

_Sam isn't answering. Her eyes seem to be glued to Carly's breasts. Why Carly doesn't find this odd, or feel uncomfortable, is something she doesn't even consider thinking about._

"_That's a new bra." Sam is finally able to say._

"_Do you like it?" Carly asks, turning back around to continue her search for an elusive shirt._

"_Yeah. It's cute."_

"_Thanks." She finally grabs one and pulls it over her head. "Your pajamas are in the same place."_

"_Cool." Sam says, and Carly notices that her cheeks are a little red. She must be flushed. It's hot in here, after all._

_Carly is climbing into bed while Sam gets changed. It's weird, they aren't usually self-conscious around each other, but tonight, Sam's back is to her best friend as she removes her top, bra, and jeans, to replace them with her usual tank top and sweat pants. Carly doesn't say anything. She's never been one to question Sam's ways._

_Carly sleeps on the left side of the bed, closest to the window, and Sam takes the right side, closest to the door. Carly doesn't remember when they started doing this, or why, but it's the way they've always done things._

_Sam slips in bed next to her and rolls over onto her side, facing away from her friend. Carly laughs under her breath._

"_What are you doing Sam?"_

"_I'm tired. I'm going to sleep."_

_Carly laughs again. "What, am I just too ugly to look at?"_

_Sam chuckles a little, but she sounds nervous. "Nope, just sleepy."_

_Carly scoots closer to Sam and wraps an arm around her waist. She snuggles into her blonde best friend, nuzzling her face into Sam's neck. "Well if I'm gonna make us go to sleep so early, and if you refuse to talk to me, you're being my pillow."_

_Sam takes a deep breath before Carly feels her relax against her. "Okay. Sounds good."_

_Carly chuckles, a deep, reverberating laugh that shakes her rib cage and vibrates through Sam's body. And it's extremely relaxing. Sam feels her breathing level out, and senses herself drifting off._

_She thinks she wouldn't mind living like this, going to sleep like this every night, with Carly wrapped around her. She wouldn't mind it at all._

**CS**CS**CS**

Her bed doesn't feel the same without Sam's warm body in it. Her life doesn't feel the same without Sam in it.

Carly sighs, sinking farther into her pillow. Her room is illuminated by the soft orange glow of the city lights seeping in through her windows. She didn't close her curtains before she collapsed on her bed, and now, she's too tired to get up and shut them.

She closes her eyes, and all she sees is Sam.

All she can think about is that kiss.

Sam was right in stopping her the second time, even if she did overreact while doing so. She didn't understand why Carly was doing what she was doing. Sam seemed so sure of herself. She understood what she was feeling.

Carly didn't have that luxury.

But what was she feeling? Of course she loves Sam, she's always loved Sam, but _how_ does she love Sam? Does she love her like Freddie, like a best friend? Or does she love her like Spencer, like a sibling? Or… is it something more?

Carly's never been in love before in her life, of that much she's sure. So how in the hell is she supposed to understand if what she's feeling for Sam is love or just intense friendship?

Carly sighs for what feels like the thousandth time that night. She'll never get any sleep at this rate. But she needs to figure this out.

Okay. Facts. What does she know?

Sam is her best friend.

Sam has feelings for her.

They kissed. Twice.

Carly very much enjoyed those kisses.

The thought of losing Sam terrifies her.

When she thinks about Sam, and when she thinks about Freddie, she does _not _feel the same thing.

So what does that mean? Does she like Sam?

The idea doesn't freak Carly out as much as she thinks it should. Of course it's weird for her. She's never thought about Sam that way, never thought about a _girl_ that way. She never thought she could be gay.

She's dated boys before. She's kissed them, and it's been nice. She's had crushes on boys, yeah. None of them ever worked out though.

So that's it? A couple failed relationships and she thinks she has to switch to women?

But she _didn't_ decide to switch, that's the thing. Sam kind of thrust this on her. If Sam hadn't kissed her, Carly never would have started doubting her sexual preference.

Does that mean that this is fake? If Sam hadn't kissed her, Carly would have never thought that she could like girls. So that means she isn't gay… right?

Carly groans and pulls a pillow over her face. God this thinking stuff is hard. It wasn't this hard when she was with Sam. Admittedly, with Sam, she wasn't exactly doing a lot of thinking…

That was another problem. When she was with Sam, and kissing Sam, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. As soon as she started analyzing it, however, her brain felt like it was being twisted in knots, and she didn't know what to think. God damn brain!

She can't lose Sam. She knows that. She needs Sam in her life; she wants Sam in her life badly, desperately. She wouldn't know what to do if Sam wasn't around.

So what does that mean? Either she gives this… _thing_ between them a shot, and maybe they'll work out, maybe they'll stay together. But what are the odds of that? High school relationships never last. And if they break up, then what? What if they stop talking? What if they're never friends again? Can she risk that?

But what if they don't try and make it work? What if they just ignore that the kiss ever happened, ignore that they almost had _sex_, and just gloss over it all? Things would just become awkward between them. Their relationship would be changed forever, they'd be walking on eggshells around each other, and they would always be a little resentful, wondering what could have been, if they had just had the courage to take the plunge.

So her choices were: date Sam, maybe they work out, maybe they break up mutually, maybe it all ends terribly and they never speak again. Or alternately, she doesn't date Sam, maybe they go back to normal, or maybe they turn bitter and awkward and never speak, and their relationship is worse than ever.

Carly has a choice to make. Take the risk, enjoy the benefits for a little while, and risk losing Sam, or keep everything the same, try to go back to normal, and risk losing Sam either way. The second option was certainly safer.

Did she want safe? How many cheesy romantic movies were there where the two best friends start dating and end up happily ever after? To be fair, in those movies, the two best friends aren't ever two girls…

Maybe they could work. It's common knowledge that love is just friendship set on fire.

But fires burn, and destroy, and Carly doesn't want to destroy anything. All she wants is Sam. Being safe with Sam is better than having her for a little while and then losing her… isn't it?

What was that old saying? It's better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all.

Carly falls asleep with that phrase turning over and over in her mind. And when she wakes up, she still has no idea what to do.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:**** I'm so sorry for the delay! On a side note, happy summer everyone! So now that I don't have school, I can spend more time on my stories, which is good news for all of you! Thanks again to everyone who has favorited, followed, or reviewed this story! You literally make me want to write you novels. Enjoy!**

iLost My Mind

Chapter 5

Sam doesn't know what to expect when she sees Carly the next day. She hasn't been by to visit, no one has, and it's left Sam with a lot of thinking time.

So what has she thought about in the 24 hours it's been since she last laid eyes on Carly Shay? Kissing her.

Sure, there was some other stuff in there too… but mostly all she thought about was Carly.

And it's not like it's any different than usual, because Carly's always first and foremost on her mind, but it's never been accompanied by such intense feelings of dread.

She's afraid to spend time with her best friend.

Something's wrong here.

Sam sighs and glances at the clock that's on the wall of the lobby. Carly and Freddie are supposed to be here in twenty minutes. How is she supposed to do iCarly when she can barely even look at Carly and all she wants to do is strangle Freddie?

She's an actress. She'll figure it out.

But still, every time the door opens, she finds herself jumping out of her seat, fidgeting nervously with the hem of her shirt.

It hasn't been them so far. Obviously.

The nurses keep looking at her like she's insane, and it's really starting to piss her off, because she's in a fucking _mental hospital_, and all their patients are insane, so why the fuck are they looking at her like she's gum on the bottom of their shoes? They should have more class than that.

She doesn't fucking care. She's never cared what people think about her. People are just people, and if a stranger on the street sees her running by with dirty hair and dirt under her nails, why should she care? What does it matter if someone she doesn't even know glares at her as she walks down the sidewalk?

That's another way her and Carly are so different. Sam simply _doesn't care_ about what people think. The only opinion that matters is Carly's.

Carly's never been that way. It matters to her that their peers like her, that her fans think she's the nice one. It matters that Spencer always has to be proud of her, that her teachers like her. If she was walking down the street holding Sam's hand, she would care when people stared…

Maybe that's one reason Sam's so uneasy about her crush on Carly. What would this do for her socially? Sure, things aren't like how they were 30 years ago, hell, _10_ years ago, but things are still pretty shitty. People are still assholes, still hell-bent on shoving their own ideas and beliefs down other peoples' throats.

Whatever. Like she said, Sam doesn't care. But Carly does. Carly's always cared. It's why she's such a better person than Sam.

The next people to walk through the door are Freddie and Carly, and Sam jumps up, like all the other times, but immediately sits back down, self-conscious of how desperate she must seem.

Freddie scurries off to set up the camera equipment, and Carly is left to shuffle over next to Sam, suddenly finding the white linoleum floor very interesting.

"Hey." Sam says, trying not to let it bother her the way Carly's ignoring her.

"Sam, I have to-"

Sam holds up a hand and cuts her off. "Not now. Not here. We should do iCarly first. We'll talk after." What Sam means is '_We should give the fans this last night of iCarly, you know? You can say you never want to see me again after this episode.'_

Of course she doesn't say it. She isn't sure she could find the words to express her regret over that.

So they don't speak for the next fifteen minutes as Freddie readies all of his portable tech stuff that, combined, probably cost more than everything in Sam's apartment, and of which she knows nothing. The only technological stuff Sam is able to do is take photos with her Pearphone.

Finally Freddie picks up his camera, and says, "In 5, 4, 3, 2…"

Sam and Carly hurry out in front of the camera, plastering fake smiles to their faces as they do so. Sam glances at Carly once, and she can see how hard her friend is trying to make all of this look normal. She's pretty sure she's the only one who can see anything wrong.

Every patient and nurse in the hospital shouts the "ONE!" That Freddie purposefully left out. Sam can see his annoyed expression, and she has to bite her lip to keep from laughing. It's the first real smile she's shown all day.

It's weird, doing iCarly from here. They don't have Sam's usual remote, so every sound effect is created by the people behind them. They don't have their TV, but Freddie had managed to hook something up that connected their video feed to the TV hanging behind them. She would never say it out loud, but Sam was impressed.

She felt weird doing this. Not iCarly, not with her friends, but everyone was watching her. And it wasn't just the people miles away through their computer screens, there were actually people here, sitting right behind her, judging her for what she was doing.

"Hey Sam?"

"Uh yes?" Sam responds, easily falling back into the banter she's so used to.

"This isn't the iCarly studio."

"Well it sure isn't, Carls, because tonight-"

"We're coming to you live from Troubled Waters-"

"Mental Institution!" They both say together, and everyone behind them cheers. Sam's sure people will wonder what they're doing here. She's also sure that she really doesn't care what they think.

"If you have mental issues…"

"You'd be _crazy_ to go anywhere else!"

"Warning! In the year twenty twenty-nine aliens capture Ryan Seacrest!" A man pokes his head between them to shout at the camera, and then in the next second he's gone, slinking away towards the back of the room. Carly and Sam share a look.

They brought Gibby with them. It's always easy to kill time when they have Gibby sit in unidentifiable foods.

iCarly goes off without a hitch. It's not their best episode, but it's not their worst, and Sam is fairly certain that no one could sense the tension between herself and Carly. She's thankful Freddie doesn't say anything. She doesn't want her private business paraded around the internet world.

Who knows what would happen to the viewership of iCarly if people knew about them? It would probably drop tenfold.

They sign off to resounding applause from the whole room.

"Good show guys!" Freddie says, bouncing over excitedly.

"Yeah, it was awesome. We should go offsite more often." Sam says half-heartedly. Today was difficult for her. Acting so in control all the time was draining.

"Come on." Carly says, grabbing Sam's hand and pulling her towards the doors.

"What are you doing Carls?" Sam asks, trying only slightly to fight against her.

"I'm breaking you out of here."

"What? How?"

Carly pauses for a second. "Look, no one's paying attention to us, are they?"

Sam looks around, and sure enough, not a single eye in the place is trained on them, not even the bitchy nurse at the front desk.

"Come on Sam." Carly says, pulling on her friend's hand. "I don't know how long we have until someone decides to notice!"

Sam picks her feet up and hurries out of the hospital with Carly, allowing herself to be dragged through the streets of downtown Seattle for a few blocks. She tries to force herself to ignore how nice it feels to have Carly's hand in hers.

Carly eventually slows her rapid pace once they are a safe distance from Troubled Waters. She doesn't drop Sam's hand immediately, instead she looks down at it, seems to judge it for a moment, before slowly uncurling their fingers, and letting gravity do the rest to separate them.

Sam shoves her hands in her pockets, not liking in the slightest how cold they now feel.

The silence grows between them, pressing down from all angles, and Sam shivers, not because she's cold, necessarily, but because she's so damn _uncomfortable_.

Carly gestures her head towards a coffee shop across the street, and Sam nods, wanting a reprieve from the cold, and desperately needing to do something with her hands that will keep them occupied and away from Carly. Because if she continues to go unchecked, she's sure she'll end up pulling her friend into a tight embrace. And she's not sure either of them are ready for that.

If she pauses to think about how strange it is that they aren't talking, it would break her heart. So she doesn't stop long enough to think.

All she knows is that she never should have kissed Carly; she should have listened to her damn brain and kept her heart in check. Nothing is worth _this_.

Carly doesn't even ask Sam, she just automatically pays for her. Sam isn't sure if this is out of habit (because let's face it, Sam never really has any money on her anyways, and if Carly pays, it's better than Sam stealing it), or if her friend remembers that Sam's been staying in a mental hospital for the past four days, and wouldn't have any personal effects on her.

Whatever the reason, she's thankful, and the girls move to a booth towards the back of the shop, each nursing their steaming cups of coffee, sipping occasionally, and refusing to look at each other.

"It's easier," Carly finally says, breaking the silence and causing Sam to jump, "when we're around other people, isn't it? Because then we have a reason to pretend."

Sam doesn't answer, but she's pretty sure Carly doesn't want her to.

"Being with you used to be the easiest thing in my life. It was a constant, something I could control, because I could always know what to expect." Carly sighs and finally tears her eyes from the window she's been looking out of, and brings her gaze up to meet Sam's. "It's difficult now, Sam. I don't know why. And I don't know why it's terrifying me, or why I can't force myself to pull away."

Sam blinks rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay, and she succeeds by breaking Carly's gaze and staring at her own hands, which are picking at the paint on the table. She doesn't even know she's doing it.

"I'm sorry." She says quietly.

Carly continues as if she hadn't said anything. "When I'm by myself, I can't stop thinking. I'm confused all the time, and I keep running over every conversation we've ever had, trying to see if one of them has hinted at… _this_. I think about what I'm feeling, and what would happen if we _did_ get together, and if what you're feeling is real, and if I'm feeling anything at all, and what Spencer would think, and…" Carly trails off when she sees that Sam has visibly tensed at the words. Carly sighs. "And then you're standing in front of me, and all I can think about is kissing you."

Sam's head jerks up so quickly that Carly's sure she'll get whiplash. Her eyes are wide and disbelieving.

"You managed to turn my life upside down, confuse me, and question everything I ever thought was true in about thirty seconds of kissing me, Sam. That has to mean something, right?"

"Maybe." Sam says quietly. "Or maybe you're just too afraid of losing me as a friend that you've decided to return my feelings, for convenience."

Carly sighs again, but this time it's more of a frustrated huff than a resigned breath. "Why are you so opposed to letting people love you?"

Sam's head is back to staring at her hands before Carly can even blink. "No one loves me."

"Of course people love you! Freddie, and Spencer, and Melanie, and-"

"No one loves me the way I want them to, Carls. No one loves me the way I love you."

Carly is silent for a few seconds, before whispering, "You haven't even given me the chance."

"Carly if I had known that _this_," she gestures between the two of them, "would be the result of kissing you, I never would have done it. This is _torture_, Carly. Being with you, but having you so far away from me, tiptoeing around in case I do something wrong, say something wrong, touch you the way I used to, and have you yell at me… I can't do this. I wanna be your friend Carls; I don't know what I'd do without you as my friend. You've been my best friend my whole life. I need you."

"You've always had me."

"Have I? I thought I lost you this week. I can't do that again. I can't lose you, not for real."

Carly reaches across the table and grasps Sam's hand in her own. "Then you won't. I won't let that happen. You can talk to me about anything Sam; I'm always going to be your best friend. Maybe next time we could talk, instead of having you jump me." Sam glances up and sees a small smile on Carly's face, and Sam has to laugh. It feels good to laugh with Carly again. She's missed this.

"Talking next time, got it."

Carly nods, smiling. "Do you wanna come back to mine tonight?"

Sam freezes where she sits, and Carly can see the wheels turning in her head, weighing her options. She then slowly shakes her head. "I don't think that's such a good idea. Besides, I haven't been home in days; I need to clean up the house before Mom gets home tomorrow."

Carly barely flinches at the 'not a good idea part', and nods at Sam's obvious excuse. Her house is always a mess, even when her mom's there… e_specially_ when her mom's there.

Sam stands up and smiles a soft smile. "Thanks for the coffee Carls. I'll see you at school, okay?"

"Sure thing." Carly says as she watches Sam go. They don't hug goodbye like they usually do, and Carly is left in a quiet café in downtown Seattle, wondering if she and Sam will ever go back to the way they were before, and wondering if she really wants that to happen at all.

**CS**CS**CS**

The next day is Saturday, and Sam doesn't come over. Carly tries calling her, texting her, even appealing to Freddie to see if Sam will answer him, but their best friend is cold to both of them. Carly has to stop herself from marching over to Sam's house and demanding that the girl come and hang out with them, as if forcing her into a normal situation will force them to act normally towards each other.

Both Freddie and Spencer notice Carly's sour mood and both know enough to steer clear of her, even if only one of them knows the true reason behind the residual anger.

Sam isn't around on Sunday either. Carly finds herself growing angrier and angrier at her best friend. It isn't fair of her to ignore Carly and Freddie like this, freezing them out and refusing to face her fears. But Carly's never been able to stay mad at Sam, and since their blonde best friend has refused to show her face, Carly finds her anger dissolving throughout the day.

Maybe that was Sam's plan all along.

If it was, it was freaking genius.

Carly half expects Sam to skip out on school the next day (Lord knows she's done it plenty of times for reasons far less real than this), so she's pretty stunned when she sees Sam at her locker, silently putting away her books. That image in and of itself is enough to set Carly on edge. Sam hardly ever touches her books.

"Hey Sam." Carly says uneasily as she approaches their lockers.

Sam turns and shoots Carly a sad little smile that practically breaks Carly's heart. "Hey Carls. Listen, sorry I can't stay and chat, I have to go to Briggs' class." Sam turns on her heel and hurries off down the hall.

Carly frowns at Sam's retreating figure. They don't have that class 'till after lunch.

She hates this. She hates the awkwardness between them. She hates that Sam feels the need to ignore her.

She hates that she can't bring herself to do anything about it.

Freddie seems torn all day. Half the time he's at Sam's elbow, talking to her softly, and not drawing away the way he usually would when Sam hits him. The other half of the time he's standing silent vigil at Carly's side, obviously aware of the fact that she has no desire to talk to him.

It's a strange day for Freddie. Everything seems backwards. The girl he's supposed to hate seems to need him more than ever, and the girl he's supposed to be in love with seems to want nothing to do with him. Meanwhile the two of them are too busy being miserable to be any kind of fun.

Sam won't look at Carly. Every time Freddie notices her eyes drifting towards her best friend, she rips them away and glowers at her own hands.

Adversely, Carly can't _stop_ looking at Sam. Every time they're in the same room, or walking down the hallway near each other (that's another strange thing, that they're not walking together, and more than a few people notice. Freddie manages to deter them) Carly's eyes are glued to Sam.

Freddie experiences a slight twinge of jealousy, too. He's always wanted Carly to look at him like that.

It's not even the fact that they kissed that all this tension is between them. Jesus, Freddie's kissed both of them before and nothing like _this_ has ever happened. It's the fact that they both like each other, but Carly is too afraid, and far too analytical to accept it just yet, and Sam is far too self-deprecating to believe it.

Freddie's getting fed up. If he didn't love them both so much, he'd have left them to their own devices long before now.

Maybe that would be easier. If he wasn't around to mediate, maybe it would force them to just get on with it already.

But he isn't that cruel.

The collateral damage would be phenomenal.

"Just talk to her Sam, please." Freddie begs as he sits down at Sam's table at lunch.

Sam lets out a resigned sigh. "Go away Freddie."

"She misses you Sam, I know she does. She wants you around. Why won't you just talk to her?"

"Listen Winifred, you don't understand. And why does it feel like we've already had this conversation?"

"Well clearly once wasn't enough, because you didn't listen to me then."

"And you think I'll listen to you now? Look I tried to talk to her, I did-"

"Yeah and she told you that she still wants to be your friend and then invited you over to her house. I don't see the problem."

Sam glares at Freddie for a few seconds. "I don't wanna just be her friend."

"Well that's not fair. You can't just decide you want more and then shut Carly out when she doesn't give you more."

"I know that, okay? I know I'm being an ass. I know that this doesn't make any sense, Freddork, and that's why I'm doing it. Cold turkey, you know?"

"Carly isn't an addiction Sam."

"Speak for yourself." Sam grumbles.

"Having two girl best friends is freaking impossible."

Sam lets out a dry chuckle. "Sorry. I'll work on the whole girl thing, yeah? Who knows, maybe it'll do me some good."

Freddie punches her in the shoulder. "Like I would hang out with you if you were any different."

Sam smirks. "Thanks dweeb. Now get out of here, before the cool kids actually start thinking that I like you."

Freddie chuckles but gets up anyways. They sit together every day at lunch anyways; if people didn't know they were friends by now then this school is stupider than Freddie originally thought. But Sam wants to be alone. And he wants to talk to Carly.

She's sitting outside when he finds her, picking at blades of grass. He sits down next to her wordlessly.

"I don't wanna go back to school." She says softly.

Freddie just shrugs. "Okay. Then we won't go back." It's evident just how much Freddie cares for her that he's willing to _skip school_ to help her out.

Carly leans her head on his shoulder. "You're a great guy, Freddie. I wish I could love you the way you want me to."

Freddie kisses the top of her head and smiles sadly. "That's okay Carls; I always knew you were too good for me."

Carly chuckles. "It's the other way around, Freddie."

Freddie smiles and doesn't contradict her.

"I wish she'd just be my friend."

Freddie is quiet for a few moments, internally debating whether or not to share what he knows about Sam.

His desire to help his best friends wins out over his desire to keep Sam's secret. "She wants to be more than that, Carly. She wants more than just friendship, and it's killing her that she can't have it."

"We can't be more. We'd never work out."

"Why not? Best friends end up together all the time."

Carly rolls her eyes. "Yeah, in movies."

"It happens in real life too."

"Freddie I can't lose her. She means the world to me. I already thought I lost her this week, and I can't go through that again." She says, echoing Sam's earlier words. She hadn't realized then how much they applied to her, as well.

"But can't you see? You're losing her now. She's pulling away, Carly."

"I know that! I _can_ see it, and I hate it. There's nothing I can do about it. She says she wants me, she wants us, but she's afraid, Freddie. I can feel it when I talk to her. She's so… _scared._ I don't want her to be afraid of me."

"She's not afraid of _you_, just her feelings for you. And you're scared too, don't pretend any different."

"I know I'm afraid. I'm freaking terrified of this, Freddie. I don't know what this is."

"Well don't talk to me about it. Go talk to her."

Carly sighs. "I can't. Every time I try to talk to her I just… I forget. She's Sam, you know? And… and she stands in front of me or touches me and…" Carly trails off, but Freddie doesn't need her to explain. He understands. It pains him to realize just how much Carly is in love with Sam, but he understands. He's in a similar situation. At least one of them has a chance.

"Go talk to her, Carly."

Carly shakes her head. "No. Not today. I'm going home first. I just need a little time."

Freddie watches her stand up and leave and he doesn't try to stop her. When she gets out of sight, he stands. She's had enough time. If Sam and Carly won't figure their shit out, he's going to do it for them.

He finds Sam within minutes. She hasn't moved from her spot at the table. She's still picking at her lunch, and it looks untouched, which scares Freddie quite a bit more than he wants to admit. When Sam Puckett is refusing to eat, something needs to be done.

"Carly needs you." He doesn't set up any kind of introduction, doesn't ask any questions, he just says what he needs to say to get a reaction out of Sam.

She's up off the table like a shot. "Where?"

"Her place."

Sam brushes past him without another word, and Freddie doesn't try to stop her. He wants her to go to Carly; he wants them to work this out. He'll cover for them when their teachers ask; they trust him, they respect him, they wouldn't expect him to lie.

He feels sure that by the end of the day, Sam and Carly will have resolved their differences. At least… he hopes.


	6. Chapter 6

iLost My Mind

Chapter 6

To his credit, Spencer is perturbed when Carly shows up during the middle of the day. No one should ever say that he isn't a good brother.

Carly pushes the front door open and drops her bag onto the couch. Her body follows swiftly after it.

Spencer is in the kitchen. She isn't sure if he's cooking or sculpting, because frankly, both actions look the same with him. He pokes his head through the doorway, a small frown on his face.

"Carly? What's up kiddo?"

Carly's chewing on her lower lip when she looks up and meets her brother's gaze. "Have you ever been in love?" She asks suddenly.

Spencer blinks a few times, before dropping the towel he's holding, and coming to sit next to her on the couch. "What's this all about Carls?"

"I just… have you ever been in love?" She repeats.

Spencer squints his eyes and appears to think for a few seconds. "I suppose so."

"What happened? Why aren't you with her?"

Spencer smiles a sad little smile. "We were young, kiddo. We were young and stupid, and we wanted different things. It just wasn't meant to be."

"But… don't you regret it? I mean, it must have hurt when you broke up."

Spencer chuckles. "I thought it was going to kill me."

"So you regret it?"

"I don't regret a single second I spent with her. The heartache sucked, I'll tell you that, but it taught me some things, Carls. It helped me grow. And maybe I would have preferred to never get my heart broken, but then I never would have known what love feels like." Carly is quiet for a few long moments. "Does that help?" Spencer asks quietly.

"Actually… I think it does. Thanks, Spence."

He shrugs. "Happy to help. So are you going to tell me what all of this is about?"

Carly smiles slightly and nudges his shoulder with hers. "Maybe later. I'll be in my room." She gets up from the couch and makes her way over to the stairs.

Before she can get all the way to the top, Spencer calls out, "Don't think that this is me telling you it's okay to skip school! You look sad, that's the only reason you're not going back!"

Carly laughs and shouts back down the stairs. "I love you Spencer!"

"Love you too!" He calls up before heading back into the kitchen to work on his sculpture, which would answer Carly's question, if she were around to witness it (he's never been one for cooking in the middle of the day).

Carly doesn't even get her bedroom door shut before she hears frantic knocking on the front door. She pauses for a second, before she shakes herself and enters her room completely. It won't be for her. All of her friends are at school, and Spencer can get the door, anyways.

Downstairs, a slightly food-stained Spencer opens the door to see a nervous and fidgeting Sam. He smiles brightly at her. "Hey Sam! I haven't seen you around here in a while. How have you been?"

"I've been good Spence. Listen, is Carly here?"

"Yeah she's in her room. Why? And why aren't you in school either?"

"It's a long story, sorry. Listen I really have to see her. Can I go up?"

"Of course. You know you don't need to ask." He says, stepping aside to let her in.

Sam smiles, still obviously nervous. "Thanks again Spencer. We'll just be… well, maybe give us a few minutes?" She glances up the stairs before turning back to the eldest Shay. "Maybe an hour or two?"

Spencer nods gravely. "You two have a fight?"

Sam pauses on her trek across the room. "Something like that." She mutters.

**CS**CS**CS**

She stands outside Carly's room for at least two minutes. Every time she brings her hand up to knock, she brings it back down again. She'll get an inch away from tapping her knuckles to the wood before drawing back, over and over. She isn't sure why she's doing it. She isn't even sure why she's _knocking_. She's never knocked before.

Carly knows it's Sam that's in her apartment. She heard the door open, she heard her conversation with Spencer, and she heard her coming up the stairs. She debated whether or not she should try sneaking out of her room onto her fire escape, but quickly scolded herself. She shouldn't want to avoid Sam. They're best friends.

Besides, it was a long way to the ground.

Still, it's been a few minutes and Sam hasn't done anything. It makes Carly feel a little better that Sam's just as worried as she is. It's why she hasn't gotten up from her bed to open the door. She wants Sam to make the first move.

It takes some of the pressure off of her, that way.

She isn't sure how much of this she can take. She can't keep having deep, meaningful conversations with Sam. It's just too exhausting.

She doesn't trust herself around the blonde. She isn't sure what she's going to do when Sam finally opens the door. She may yell at her for avoiding her all day, or she may jump up and kiss her. Or she may faint. Really, any of those are reasonable possibilities.

Finally, she hears two soft, tentative knocks.

She thinks she might have said, "Come in" a little too quickly.

Nothing happens for a while. Carly sits up on her bed. "Sam?" She calls. "I know it's you. Are you still there?"

"My hands don't seem to be working." A small voice sounds through the door.

Carly frowns. "Why not?"

"I think they're shaking too much." Sam finally pushes the door open slowly, allowing every creak to sound through the old hinges. Carly tries not to cringe at the sound.

"I don't want you to be afraid." She says when she can finally see Sam's face.

Sam laughs dryly. "Funny, I was going to say the same thing to you."

"Why are you here, Sam?"

"Freddie said you needed me." Carly doesn't move from the bed. "_Do_ you need me?"

"Maybe. I'm not sure."

"How can you not be sure?" Carly doesn't say anything. "Fine, don't answer me. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I'm sorry for assuming anything. I guess I'll just leave then."

"Don't go." Carly says, still not moving from the bed. "I don't want you to go."

"But do you want me to stay?"

Carly doesn't answer that, either, deciding instead to say, "You wanted to make sure I was okay?"

Sam rolls her eyes. "Of course I did. I was scared, Carly. I'm scared all the fucking time, now, don't you get it? I figured if I knew you were okay, at least that's one thing less I have to be afraid of."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing! Every other word out of your mouth is 'sorry'! I'm sick of it, okay? I don't _care_, Carly. I don't care that you're afraid, or that I'm petrified, or that people might look at us strangely, or that you can't seem to make up your mind. I don't. Fucking. Care!" Sam yells, turning around and slamming her fist into the door.

Carly jumps up from her bed, startled. "Are you okay?"

Sam whips around again. "Stop. Please. Stop asking me questions. Stop second guessing yourself; stop second guessing _me_. I know what I want. I want _you_, Carly. I've always wanted you. And I know you're afraid that it won't be worth it, that _we _won't be worth it, but-"

"I had an interesting conversation with Spencer just now." Carly interrupts. Sam folds her arms over her chest and raises an eyebrow, managing to look curious and scornful at the same time.

"Oh?" She says.

Carly nods. "He said that when he was in love, and had to break up with his girlfriend, it nearly killed him. He said that he wishes he had never had his heart broken." Sam turns her head slightly, refusing to let Carly see the tears that are threatening to overcome her.

Carly walks up to her slowly and touches her shoulder lightly, just enough to make Sam turn around. "But he also said he doesn't regret a minute of it." She says softly. "He loved her, and he lost her, but he doesn't regret it."

She brings her hand up to cup Sam's cheek lightly. "I don't want to have regrets, Sam." She practically whispers. "And I'm afraid that if I don't give us a shot… I'll regret it for the rest of my life."

And what is Sam supposed to do? She _has_ to kiss her.

And that kiss is like a relief. It's like Sam hasn't been breathing for days, and suddenly… _life_.

There's something holding her back, though. She isn't sure what it is, but she's unwilling to kiss Carly the way she did when they were in her room at Troubled Waters. She's worried she'll lose control.

Carly isn't having any such trepidations. Her hands are wrapped in Sam's hair, pulling her closer and closer. Carly's tongue runs along Sam's bottom lip, and Sam moans, fighting with everything she has to keep her lips sealed, keep herself in check.

It doesn't work the way she expects. Carly just pushes her harder, back towards her bed. When Sam's knees hit the bed, she tries to pull away, but Carly won't let her. Sam's attempts are only half-hearted. After years of wanting this, she can't bring herself to stop it for anything.

But Sam still grudgingly fights against Carly's pressure on her shoulder. If she ends up on the bed, then… well, she can't be held responsible for her actions.

Carly takes notice. She pulls away, looking frustrated. "Why won't you kiss me?"

"I _am_ kissing you."

Carly shakes her head. "Kiss me the way I want you to. Kiss me like you love me. Please."

She's vulnerable and hurting, and Sam's never been able to ignore a hurting Carly.

Right before Sam embraces her, she whispers, "I love you."

**CS**CS**CS**

She isn't sure if she's breathing. Is that a bad thing? She's still alive, so she must be breathing, but she can't for the life of her _remember_.

All she can think is, '_Why the hell haven't I been doing this all along?' _and it really makes Carly wonder _why._

But Sam doesn't let her think for too long.

Part of her doesn't think they should be doing this here, in this room, _now_, with Spencer only just downstairs. The larger (and frankly, as Carly sees it, _smarter_) part of her can't stop touching Sam.

Lips are crushing, her breath isn't coming, hands are roaming, and Carly's heart has never beaten faster. She can feel it thumping against her ribcage so loudly that it must be echoing throughout the whole building. It only beats harder when she realizes she can feel Sam's own, erratic heart-rate through her chest.

They're horizontal on Carly's bed. She's never been in this position before, with a boy _or_ a girl, but she thinks it feels right. She's not nervous. She's comfortable. Sam's half on top of her, but it's a nice weight, a reassuring pressure. It reminds her that Sam's there (though how she could forget, with Sam's lips _right there_ and her tongue moving like _that_… Carly's brain still hasn't been able to figure it out).

If she's honest with herself, she never thought that she would be making out with _anyone_ on her bed at _any_ point in her life… at least without it leading to sex. And as much as she wants Sam, _all_ of her… she has no clue what she would do if they did get to _that_ point in their relationship. And her fear of disappointing Sam is enough to keep her hands from wandering below the belt.

Anything above that, however, seems to be fair game.

She shivers when Sam's fingers ghost over a particularly sensitive part of her hip, and she's pretty sure she would have moaned if Sam's mouth wasn't there to swallow the sound.

She feels Sam smirk against her lips and trace her fingers over the spot again. This time Carly does moan, and it's a fairly audible sound. If she weren't so flushed to begin with, she would have blushed.

After a third time, Carly pulls away from Sam's lips to pout. "Stop that." She says, and her voice is lower and throatier than she expects it to be.

"Why?"

"Because you're not ticklish, and it's not fair." Carly says, her pout deepening.

Sam chuckles before kissing down Carly's neck, and then up it, nipping lightly at her jaw. Carly squirms at the sensation. "But it's _so_ hot when you moan for me." Sam whispers into Carly's ear, her warm breath washing over the side of Carly's face, and she bites her lip hard to keep from making a sound.

God, she's never been this turned on in her life.

"We can't make so much noise." Carly says quietly. "Spencer will hear."

Sam slows her assault on Carly's neck, but doesn't remove her lips completely. "I don't care." She finally mumbles.

Carly manages to push her off gently, the ability to think returning now that Sam's lips aren't touching her. "But I do."

Sam's dark and lidded eyes suddenly lose their expression, and Carly's heart drops to her stomach, realizing she's said something wrong. Sam rolls to the side to lie on the bed next to her, staring at the ceiling and refusing to glance Carly's way.

Carly sits up, a small frown on her face. "Sam?" She asks. "What's wrong? What did I say?"

"Nothing." Sam says, shrugging. But Carly's a girl, and she knows that when a girl says '_nothing_', she really means '_something_', and that worries her.

"What did I say?" She repeats more firmly.

"_Nothing_." Sam says, still staring at the ceiling. After a few more seconds, she sighs, and can't stop the words from tumbling out. "I get it; you don't want people to know about us… which is stupid, because we aren't even an '_us'_ to begin with. And okay, we won't kiss anymore. I mean, we wouldn't want _Spencer _to hear." Her voice is dripping with a mixture of malice and sarcasm. She sighs again, heavily. "I should go." She stands up quickly, but is stopped by Carly's hand on her arm.

"I don't want you to go." She says softly. "And that's not what I was saying at all. I don't want Spencer to hear because… he deserves better than that. I mean, if I'm going to tell him I'm gay, I want to actually _tell_ him, don't I?"

Sam's knees go weak and she has to sit heavily on the bed. She gapes at Carly, and blinks a few times, slowly. "You're telling him you're gay?"

"Well… I don't know for sure if I'm _gay_, exactly… but, you know… there's you." Carly shrugs. "I think the easiest way to tell him that I'm dating my best friend is just to say 'I'm gay'." She clears her throat and looks down at the covers nervously. "At least… if you _want_ to date? I know you said that we aren't an '_us_' to begin with, but-"

"Of course I want to date you." Sam says quickly, grabbing Carly's hand and squeezing it tightly. "Of course I do. I'm sorry, I'm being an ass. I just… keep expecting to wake up, and… do you know what I mean?"

Carly laughs. "I do. I really do." It's quiet for a few seconds, each girl sitting and thinking their own happy thoughts.

"I guess this'll get easier." Sam says. Carly raises an eyebrow in question. "You know, communicating. Right now I just feel so weird… I mean now we're like… _dating_." Sam shakes her head and blushes at Carly's happy grin. "I just have to get used to it. I think we both do. Then maybe conversation will start… _flowing_ again."

Carly laughs. "I'm sure it will."

They're both silent. "The kissing's fun." Sam says after a moment.

Carly grins. "Yeah, it is."

"I'm taking that as an okay to kiss you, alright?"

Carly has to bite her lip to stop from laughing. She can't wait until Sam will start kissing her without asking. She nods twice.

After that her senses are overwhelmed with _Sam_, and not much else registers.

**CS**CS**CS**

'_Well, it could be worse'_ Carly will think later. At least Sam wasn't on top of her. And it's not like Freddie didn't already know.

See, Carly's brain wasn't messing around when it decided to focus on kissing Sam. That's literally all it could process. Neither of them heard the front door open, or Freddie's voice, or his footsteps…

Not until he was opening the door did they even know he was there.

"Carly, is Sam- whoa. Okay. Sorry." He turns around quickly, his ears turning red from embarrassment.

Carly and Sam pull away from each other, jumping off of the bed to try and look more innocent. They needn't bother, though. It's not like he didn't already see them.

"I didn't know… I… sorry." Freddie says sheepishly, peeking over his shoulder to check and see if they were presentable. He didn't really have time to see what kind of condition they were in when he walked in… after his brain had short-circuited because, hello, _two girls kissing_… the rest of his actions had just been reflex.

When he looks back and sees them both completely dressed, if a little disheveled, he turns around completely to face them. He rubs the back of his neck and glances between the two of them.

Freddie clears his throat. "So I'm guessing you worked it out?" He says with a smug little smirk. He should be smug. This was all his instrumentation.

Carly blushes and looks down, while Sam just glares at him. "Did you want something, nub?"

Freddie shrugs. "Not really. Just wanted to hang."

Sam glares at him some more. "You can leave now." She says, once it becomes obvious that Freddie isn't getting the message.

Freddie raises his eyebrows, surprised and half-challenging. "Oh really? Why?"

"Can't you see we were a little bit… _busy_?" Sam mutters through gritted teeth.

Freddie shakes his head. "I'm not leaving. I totally covered for you with Briggs, and you've had all afternoon to make out." He laughs at his own wit, before becoming more somber. "Seriously though, we should start writing this week's iCarly."

Sam actually growls at him, but Carly grabs her hand, entwining their fingers and rubbing the back of Sam's hand with her thumb. "Maybe Freddie's right, Sam. Come on, we have a lifetime to do… _this_." She says, gesturing with her head back at her bed, and fighting the blush that she feels coming on.

This not only relaxes Sam, but also seems to brighten her mood considerably. "Alright Freddork. Lead the way. We're right behind you."

Freddie starts to make his way to the iCarly studio, but he turns around a few steps before the door and looks back at them suspiciously. "Hands where I can see them." He says seriously, and this time both girls blush, raising their locked hands high enough for Freddie to see. He nods once before walking into the studio, and he doesn't say anything else about it all day.

**CS**CS**CS**

Sam manages to kick Freddie out after about two hours, to much protest. She finally has to threaten physical violence to make him leave.

Usually Carly would disapprove, but she's so desperate to get Sam alone that she doesn't say anything.

The last thing Freddie manages to say before Sam slams the studio door in his face is "At least this time lock the damn door!"

For what it's worth, they take his advice. Carly certainly doesn't want Spencer walking in on them, especially after the fuss she made about telling him on her own terms.

"Please tell me this won't get old." Sam mutters after about twenty minutes. She's on one of the beanbag chairs that they keep around, Carly perched precariously in her lap.

"Jesus I hope not." Carly chuckles, placing a soft, lingering kiss on Sam's lips. When she pulls away again, she whispers, "Do you want to stay the night?"

Sam freezes where she's sitting. "Stay the night?" She asks nervously.

"Like a sleepover. Like we usually do, I mean." Carly is quick to clarify.

Sam chews on the inside of her lip. "I don't think I should…" She says hesitantly.

Carly tries not to let her disappointment show. "Oh? Why not?"

"Well, when I say I don't think I _should_… I mean I don't think I _can_."

Now Carly's truly curious. "Why not?"

Sam clears her throat and looks away. "I don't think I'll be able to… erm… _control myself_. If… if you know what I mean." She blushes heavily and looks at the floor.

Carly grabs her chin and lifts it up, making their eyes meet. She kisses Sam slowly. "What if I don't want you to?" She breathes out when they part, and Sam gulps audibly.

She manages to shake her head firmly, even though half of her is screaming out, telling her to stay, to be with Carly, to _give in_ already. But she won't do it. She cares too much. "No. Not… not tonight. Not after this week, not with Spencer here, not so soon… you deserve better than that, Carly."

It's probably for the best, the logical part of Carly reasons. Sam's right, they _should _wait; they should think this through more clearly, they should talk about it… but _God_ does she want to.

Sam glances at the clock that's mounted on the wall across from them. "I should probably go…" She says, though she makes no move to stand. It's not like she could get up, even if she wanted to, with Carly sitting on her and the position they're in. Carly realizes it too.

She pouts and throws her arms around Sam's neck, shifting slightly so that more of her weight is on Sam's thighs. "I don't want you to leave."

Sam sighs. "I don't want to leave."

"So stay."

"I can't. I have to get home. You have dinner, and Spencer, and… and if I stay any longer I'll never leave." She says seriously.

Carly knows that she has to let her go. She can't just _force_ Sam to stay here all night. Even if they both want to… no, she has to move.

With a little effort, and quite a bit of clever maneuvering, Carly manages to stand and help Sam up next to her. They stand there looking at each other for about thirty seconds before Sam steps forward and claims Carly's lips in a sort of desperate goodbye.

She cups Carly's heart-shaped face, while Carly's arms snake around her waist. When breathing becomes necessary, Sam moves back only enough to separate their lips, while still remaining in Carly's embrace. "So I guess this is goodbye." She says.

Carly smiles sadly. "I guess so." She kisses Sam one last time. "I'll miss you."

"You'll see me tomorrow." Sam says, unwilling to admit that she'll miss her, too. She's Sam Puckett. She's supposed to be tough.

Carly shakes her head. "Doesn't matter. I'll still miss you." Sam's hands drop to around her neck, and they hug each other tightly for a few moments. Carly kisses Sam on the cheek before finally removing all physical contact.

"Bye Carly. I love you."

Carly smiles. "Bye Sam."

As Sam walks home, she can't help but think about what Carly's said that day; or, more accurately, what she _didn't _say.

Sam wants to say that it doesn't bother her that Carly didn't say she loved her back. She wants to say that she isn't worried that tomorrow, she'll wake up and this whole day will have been a dream. She wants to say that she isn't afraid Carly will change her mind overnight. She wants to say all of that.

She'd be lying.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: ****I can't tell you how much it means to me, all of the positive response I've gotten from this story. I'm so grateful to everyone who's taken the time to review or favorite or follow this story. I'm glad you guys seem to be enjoying it.**

**Here's chapter 7. Sorry, it's not going to have much Carly/Sam interaction in it; it's mainly going to be Carly's internal thoughts. Also, it's shorter than usual, and kind of… angsty. I really didn't mean for it to turn out that way, but… oh well. Que sera sera.**

**Don't worry the story will live up to its 'M' rating within the next few chapters. I know that's what you're all really waiting for.**

**I haven't been putting a disclaimer, because I'm pretty sure it won't **_**actually**_** do anything, legal-wise. Okay, this is going to be my blanket, "I don't own this". Because I don't. Though I wish I did.**

iLost My Mind

Chapter 7

She wants to tell him. She honestly does.

She's standing in her bedroom, about half an hour before dinner, looking at herself in the mirror, trying to psych herself up. "Come on Carly. You can do this. It's just Spencer. You've done things _way_ worse than this. It's not that big of a deal."

But it was a big deal; it _is_ a big deal. She can't tell herself that it isn't convincingly, because she _knows_ it is. This matters. She can't just throw it out there out of nowhere.

"Damn it." She mutters, running her fingers through her hair. She straightens up once again and holds her chin high. "Spencer." She says, looking far more confident than she feels, "I have something I want to tell you. That's not right." She mutters, breaking character. "I _want_ to tell you? I _need_ to tell you?" She nods once before putting on her façade. "Spencer, I have something I need to tell you. It's nothing bad, I promise. I'm not hurt, and no one else is hurt, and I didn't break the law, or steal anything, or break anything, and I'm not failing any of my classes, and- shit, now I'm rambling."

She curses under her breath and tries to pull herself together. "Don't say any of that. That's stupid. He doesn't care about that. Just come out and say it." She clears her throat. "Spencer," she tries again, "I have something I need to tell you. Don't worry, it isn't bad. Actually I think it's pretty amazing. Right, so, well… I think I'm gay. I mean, I'm pretty sure I'm gay. I'm dating Sam. Sam Puckett. So that's why I think I'm gay… because she's a girl…. And I'm a girl… _fuck_!" She groans in frustration, throwing herself face-down onto her bed.

"I'm never going to get this." She whispers. "Come on Carly. Maybe you should just come out and say it? I mean, what's the worst that could happen? If you think about it, you'll just freak yourself out."

Carly pauses as she does, indeed, 'think about it'. What's the worst that could happen?_ Well,_ the voice in her head says, _Spencer could say that he hates you, or that he's disappointed in you. He could kick you out. He could forbid you from seeing Sam. He could send you away-_

Carly growls. She fucking hates that voice.

It's making her talk to herself.

She groans and buries her head further down into her bed. She wishes Sam was still here, or Freddie, or _anyone_, for that matter. She needs someone to bounce ideas off of. She needs help.

She reaches for her phone before pulling back swiftly and chastising herself. She can't pull Sam into this. She has enough to worry about. She can't pull Sam into her Spencer drama, and _Christ_ she might just have to kill herself if she asks Freddie for _coming out_ advice.

Besides… this is her thing. She has to do this herself. Spencer is basically the only family she has left.

She immediately feels guilty for that thought. She has her dad. She just hasn't seen him in months… and she hasn't called him in a few weeks. The guilt deepens. She should put more of an effort in to keep in contact with her father. She makes herself a promise to call him tomorrow. Who knows if he'll actually pick up, but… at least she'll initiate contact.

Carly sighs and stares at her ceiling. She has never missed her mother more in her life than right now, at this moment. It was strange enough not having her around to talk about her first kiss, or her first period, but… Jesus, she was going through an identity crisis! She _needs_ her mother.

But that's impossible. Carly knows that's impossible.

She wants to talk to her, though. Even if she can't respond… and Carly knows that it would be pointless, talking to an empty room. She knows her mother's dead; she has been for years. She knows that there's no way her mother can hear her, or comfort her, or help her.

She wants to talk to her, though.

"Hey Mom." Carly says tentatively into her vacant room. She hasn't 'talked' to her mother since she was ten years old. After a while it became more painful to trick herself into thinking there was some part of her mom that was sticking around, keeping an eye out for her daughter. Carly couldn't deal with that pain; not anymore.

She clears her throat, feeling uncomfortable. She doesn't really understand how this is any different from talking to herself… at least now she's addressing another person. "I know it's been a while since we… talked… and I'm sorry about that, I guess. I've been pretty busy though, wouldn't you say?" Carly chuckles to herself. "I kind of hope you've been watching, Mom. I… well I want you to be proud of me."

She shakes her head at herself. "I'm being ridiculous…" She mumbles quietly before taking a deep breath. "I know you can't really help me. I think I know that you're not watching me right now. I still hope that you are, though.

"So, there's a reason that I'm talking to you now. I think I just need to talk it all out with someone, and to be honest, I'm a little terrified to tell Spencer. At least I know you can't judge me. Maybe thinking about the way you would have reacted, the things you would have said… maybe that'll fix this for me. Because I am so scared, Mom. I'm _so_ scared."

Carly stares at a fixed point on her ceiling for a few seconds, waiting for… she doesn't know what, but _something._ When nothing happens, she's not sure if she feels relieved or upset. She closes her eyes to brace herself for the next words out of her mouth. "You know my friend Sam." She can't help the small smile that overtakes her face at the mention of Sam's name. "Of course you do. You probably know her almost as well as you know me, by now. Well, you've obviously seen what's been happening this past week. That's what I wanna talk about, Mom.

"I don't think I'm confused. I thought I would be… hell, I thought I _was_ for the longest time. But... I'm _not_. Is that strange?"

Carly picks at the bottom of her shirt. "I've never been in love Mom. You're probably thankful to hear that, aren't you? You're probably happy that I've never had a serious relationship with a boy. Let's be honest, the only constant relationships in my life have been Freddie and Sam, and Freddie's… well, he's Freddie."

Carly laughs again. "I think I should have seen it sooner. I think if you had been here I would have noticed it. I don't know when my impression of Sam went from 'friend' to… something else. I don't even know what my impression of her _is_. Girlfriend? Is she my girlfriend? I think we decided on 'dating', but… what does that mean?"

She's quiet for another few moments. "Does this make me gay?" She whispers into the empty room. "I know I've never felt like this before, boy or girl, but… I've never really noticed _looking _at other girls, you know? I've talked about boys before, but _everyone_ does that, it's what we're _supposed_ to do. Have I really meant everything I've said? Or is it just… gossip and peer pressure?"

Carly sighs. "I have to tell Spencer. But I don't know what to say to him. Do I tell him I'm gay, that I'm bisexual, that I'm confused? Or do I just say that I'm dating Sam? And what if he doesn't respond well? What am I supposed to do then?"

Carly stares at her ceiling for a few more seconds, before sighing in frustration. "This really didn't help. I thought it would, but now I'm just more confused. I guess I needed someone who could… answer back."

Carly looks upward sadly. "I really wish you were here, Mom. I really wish I had someone to talk to." She glances towards her bedside table before muttering, "Maybe I should call Sam…" She's just reaching for the phone when Spencer's voice calls up the stairs.

"Carly! Dinner!" He yells, and Carly freezes, her heart suddenly beating at marathon-pace. She begins to hyperventilate before forcing herself to remain calm. Her palms start to sweat but she quickly wipes them against the fabric of her jeans.

She gets off her bed slowly and makes her way over to the door, when suddenly her phone buzzes.

She nearly trips over herself in her haste to reach it, looking for any excuse to prolong the time before she has to stand in front of her brother and confess.

She unlocks the screen to her Pearphone, and reads the new text message.

_Go get 'em Carls._

_I love you._

_-Sam_

Carly feels her eyes prick with tears as she clutches the phone tightly to her chest. She takes a deep breath before marching out of her bedroom and down the stairs.

Time to face the music.

**CS**CS**CS**

She wanted to do it the second she sees him, but something makes her pause. _Later,_ she tells herself, _wait until you start eating._

She doesn't say a word for the first ten minutes, only forcing herself to laugh at Spencer's stories. She can barely force down a forkful of the spaghetti they're having.

"Is something wrong, Carly?" Spencer asks, taking a huge mouthful of food.

Carly looks up and makes eye contact with him. She opens her mouth, the words on the tip of her tongue, but again, something makes her pause. _Don't tell him while he's eating,_ the little voice in her head scolds, _he'll choke on his food._

So Carly just smiles a tight smile and shakes her head 'No'.

She wants to hit herself. This isn't a big deal. She's just dating her best friend. Spencer will understand; he's ridiculously understanding about this kind of thing. He has all kinds of gay friends (he's an artist, what do you expect?) and he's never shown any kind of problem with them before.

But her mouth won't open. She can't eat, she can't speak… something's holding her mouth shut. She's sure that if she can just get it open then the words will come tumbling out; problem solved.

But her mouth won't open.

This isn't a big deal.

But it is. It's a huge deal. This is the rest of her life, changing in an instant. Every perception Spencer's ever had of her or her future will be changed. From now on, sleepovers with Sam won't be _just_ that… they'll have to be regulated. Oh God, what if Spencer stops them having sleepovers?

He'll never get a chance to threaten her boyfriends. She'll never have a husband. Her dad won't ever get to walk her down the aisle…. Well, maybe not that last one, but there will most certainly be a different person at the end of the aisle than what they must have always imagined.

This isn't a big deal.

But it is.

This isn't her defining characteristic… not by a longshot. Her being gay or dating her best friend isn't what _defines_ her. She's still Carly; she's still the person she's always been.

This isn't her defining characteristic. But it's certainly a contributing factor, isn't it?

She doesn't say a word for the rest of dinner. When Spencer offers her desert, she just shakes her head slightly and says she doesn't feel well, which by this point is completely true. She's sick with herself. She's a coward.

She tries not to make any noise as she's crying in her room ten minutes later. She doesn't want to worry him, after all.

Why is this so hard? Even figuring out her feelings for _Sam_ wasn't this difficult. It shouldn't be hard. He's her brother. She loves him, and he loves her. They'll always have each other.

Telling him she likes girls _shouldn't_ matter this much.

But it does.

And she knows why she doesn't want to tell him. She knows the reason, deep down, but she doesn't want to admit it, because it just means she's even more of a coward than she already thinks she is.

If she admits the reason, she doesn't deserve Sam.

She doesn't want to tell Spencer because deep down she's terrified that this is a phase. She never even _thought_ about being gay before Sam kissed her.

She hates that word: 'phase'. It's always the word parents throw around in those awful teen gay movies; the unaccepting parents, thinking their kids will grow out of it. There must be a reason for that though… right? What if it happens to her? What if she grows out of it?

What if, in a week, two weeks, a _month_, she wakes up and realizes she doesn't want Sam anymore? Though her stomach clenches uncomfortably at the thought, she can't help but think about _what if_.

And what if they break up and she goes back to dating boys? What is Spencer supposed to think then?

She's being moronic, she knows. She knows what she feels is real. She knows it isn't a phase.

That doesn't stop the irrational fear from building.

She wipes at her ears angrily, pulling herself together.

She has to stop crying. She's cried so _fucking_ much over the last week that she's going to run out of tears before too long. She has to stop being so weak.

Sam's never been this weak.

That's what causes the tears to dry, in the end. Hell, if Sam can be this strong, the least she can do is be strong for her.

After all, she loves her.

Everything freezes. Carly's heart stops, her breath halts, and not a single muscle in her body twitches.

She _loves_ her.

She's never said that to herself.

Of course she's always _loved_ Sam, but… now she's thinking about being _in_ love with her and… shouldn't this be a bigger moment? Shouldn't she be more scared?

Shouldn't she be more surprised, and less… _relieved_?

It's with fumbling fingers that she reaches her phone and hits the few buttons necessary to call Sam.

"Hey Carly!" Sam's bright voice sounds from the other end. "How did it go?"

"I couldn't do it." Carly whispers surprised that her voice isn't coming out the way it should. "I just…" She trails off, but Sam doesn't need to hear any more.

"Do you need me to come over?"

Carly nods, then remembering Sam can't see her, whispers, "Yes."

"I'll be there in five minutes. Don't go anywhere, okay?"

Carly chuckles. "Where would I go?"

"I don't know. Just… don't leave. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?"

Carly feels too pathetic to answer the way she really wants to, so instead she just stays silent. Sam knows her well enough to know the answer. "Okay then I will." She says softly. "I'm right here, Carls. I'm right here if you need me."

Carly is wonderfully reassured by that. The combination of Sam's soothing words and calm voice are enough to make Carly want to start crying again, but this time for entirely different reasons. How on Earth did she ever get such a wonderful girl to be her friend, let alone fall in love with her?

She must have done something amazing in a past life because she certainly knows that nothing, _nothing_ she's ever done in this life has been enough to get her Sam.

**CS**CS**CS**

She's not sure why she expected Sam to use the front door. Sam's never done what she expects.

Of course she would be the only person brave enough to climb Carly's rickety fire escape. But she's never been more grateful for the blonde's cavalier attitude.

And though Carly nearly has a heart attack when she hears a tapping at her window, just the picture of Sam, standing there, her silhouette awash with the lights from the city… it makes Carly's heart thump so powerfully that she's fairly sure she'll _never_ get a heart attack for the rest of her life.

Carly stands up and she's in Sam's arms within a second.

Sam just holds her. She holds her tightly, swaying slightly on the spot, for what feels like a lifetime.

Finally she gently leads Carly over to her bed and lies down with her, never once letting the brunette girl out of her grasp.

_Sam's here. _Carly's brain keeps saying. _Sam's here. The girl I'm in love with is here._ And she feels like she can breathe again. The panic she's felt since the second Sam left has completely dissipated. In its place it's left a physically and emotionally exhausted teenage girl.

With Sam's arms around her, the world doesn't seem half as scary.

She's able to relax within minutes, the beat of Sam's heart eventually putting her to sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:**** Sorry about the delay! We had that crazy power outage on the East Coast this past week and I didn't get power back until Friday! Ridiculous, I know.**

**Anyways, thanks for being so patient with me!**

**Here's Chapter 8.**

iLost My Mind

Chapter 8

Spencer isn't the kind of person everyone assumes he is.

The thing with kids is they always think that their parents don't know what's going on with them. They take it for granted, and then they're surprised when they're called out on it. And yeah, Spencer's not her dad, but he's as close as she's ever had.

He knows something's bothering Carly. He's known for over a week. And it's almost killing him not to tie her to a chair and interrogate her.

Carly always tells him everything, eventually.

He just has to be patient.

But since Sam's gotten back from that mental hospital, Carly's been… strange. She's been edgy, and jumpy, and practically glued to her phone.

At first Spencer thought that she had a boyfriend. Usually it's the kind of behavior she shows when she's hiding a boy from him. But she didn't ever seem particularly _happy _when she was doing those things, so Spencer quickly nixed that idea.

It's making him crazy.

He was half a step away from running up the stairs after Sam to listen to what they were talking about, because it _must_ be serious.

Sam is Carly's best friend, so shouldn't _she _know what's going on? His right foot is literally on the bottom step before he pauses, and then curses himself. He's not _that _kind of brother. Carly deserves her privacy. And if she wants to tell him, she'll tell him.

When Freddie comes over an hour later, he doesn't hesitate to send him right up. He hasn't heard any screaming or yelling from Carly's room, so he assumes that she and Sam aren't arguing. Either that or they've killed each other by now…

He's being stupid. They're fine.

He tries to focus on his sculpting, really he does, but this self portrait of himself made out of cheese doesn't really feel right.

He wants to throw it out, but then he thinks that it would be such a waste of cheese…

They'll have to have a cheese party sometime this week.

He doesn't realize how much time he spends in the kitchen until he hears Freddie stomping down the stairs. He glances up and is shocked to realize that two hours have gone by.

He's always had trouble with intervals. He isn't sure why, but he's just never had a very good sense of time.

Freddie's mumbling under his breath as he enters the living room. He glances Spencer's way before pausing, looking confused.

Spencer glances to his right, where the cheese statue is, and then looks back at Freddie. "It's cheese." He says as an explanation.

"Right." Freddie says, still staring at Spencer _that_ way.

Spencer used to hate that look. People give it to him all the time. They don't think he sees it, but he does. He sees, he notices, and he knows _exactly_ why they're looking at him like that.

When he was younger it used to make him so furious.

It's the look that people give crazy people. That sort-of pitying, sort-of fearful mix of emotions that's kind of scarier if you're on the receiving end of it. It used to make Spencer feel like a child, like he couldn't take care of himself. Now, he's just used to it. He doesn't let it bother him anymore. His mom used to say that he just had a special way of seeing the world.

He supposes that's true.

"Well I'm gonna go…" Freddie says, already reaching into his pocket to pull out his Pearphone. Freddie's always on his phone. It worries Spencer a little, how dependent he is on technology. He feels sort of responsible for the kid, and sometimes he feels bad when Freddie gets picked on for being such a nerd.

If he put down the phone and picked up a football, Spencer has no doubt in his mind that the kid would be downright popular. But Freddie doesn't care about popularity, and neither does Sam. Spencer never cared about it in school, either. It's part of the reason why he likes both of them so much.

"See you!" Spencer calls, holding a hand up in a motionless wave.

Freddie leaves and Spencer turns back to his sculpture. "Now what to do with you…" He says to it, grabbing his chin and stroking it thoughtfully.

People never bother to ask him why he makes the stuff he does. They just kind of assume he does it because he likes the way it looks (which is mostly true), he likes to eat it when he's done (which is definitely true), and he's crazy (which he'll admit is a fair assumption).

It all started when he was a teenager. It was just a stupid bet with one of his friends, but… Spencer's never forgotten it.

**CS**CS**CS**

_Art's one of two classes he's getting an A in. The other is Government, which surprised both of his parents pleasantly._

_He's never really felt smart before._

_But it doesn't bother him. He's not a brainy kid. He'll never be a brainy kid._

_He likes his art._

"_Great job, Spencer. Keep this up and I'll have to bump you up to AP Art next year!" The teacher says proudly as he walks past Spencer's wire sculpture._

_These words make his chest swell with self-importance. For a 16 year-old Spencer Shay, this man was God. To hear this praise… it meant the world to Spencer._

_His friend Gary was sitting at the counter with him._

_Gary only took the class because he thought it would be an easy A. And you know, it is, if you have any artistic abilities whatsoever. Gary doesn't._

_He scoots his stool closer to Spencer's. "That's really cool how you do that, man." He says, gesturing at the pint-sized replica of Tigger, from Winnie the Pooh (Spencer was planning on giving it to his baby sister Carly. She'll be three this year)._

_Spencer just shrugs, not wanting to brag about himself._

"_No like actually, it's sick." Gary says, eyeing the piece. "Can you only sculpt with like… sculpting materials?"_

_This makes Spencer pause. He frowns thoughtfully. "I don't know. I've never really tried."_

"_Oh." Gary says, sounding disappointed. "So you couldn't make me like… a robot out of soda cans?"_

"_Dude, I can make you a robot out of _anything_." Spencer says, his competitive streak beginning to show._

_Gary raises an eyebrow skeptically. "Oh really?"_

"_Yeah. Just you wait, by the time I'm dead, I'll have made a sculpture out of _everything_ in the world."_

**CS**CS**CS**

It was a tall order. Spencer knew it was ludicrous to think that he could make a sculpture out of _everything _ever made, but it was nice to have a goal… even if he couldn't reach it.

Besides, half the fun of having an objective was getting there.

When Sam comes down half an hour later, Spencer's moved from sculpting to dinner.

He's making spaghetti. They have it a lot at their house. It's really simple and easy for Spencer to make.

Sam pokes her head into the kitchen, as if looking for something, which confuses Spencer. She's never really come looking for him before, before she leaves.

But when she doesn't immediately go over to the fridge, Spencer figures she must _actually_ want to talk to him.

"What's up kiddo?" He asks, using the nickname he's reserved for Carly and all of her friends.

Sam doesn't say anything to him. She just advances swiftly.

Spencer is a little apprehensive, and can't help his natural instinct to fall back a little bit, because usually when Sam gets _this _close to you it's to cause you bodily harm.

But she doesn't do that.

Instead, she throws her arms around his stomach and squeezes him tightly. All of the breath leaves Spencer with a _whoosh_. Sam is deceptively strong.

Spencer's arms are slow and tentative when they reach around Sam, and they hold her lightly, because this is _very_ new for them. He's not sure he can remember a time when Sam's hugged him.

It's over as quickly as it starts, and Sam leaves without speaking word.

He would be a little worried about her behavior, and would chase after her to ask her what's wrong, except Carly's friends have never been exactly _norma_l or _predictable_.

He likes that.

He figures Sam must be going through an emotional time, and needs some support. He doesn't mind. He'll hug her whenever she asks. It beats getting punched.

As he watches her leave, he notices that her shirt is crooked, and folded up in the back. He'd say something, but before he has time to open his mouth, she's already left. He shrugs it off. It's probably not a big deal.

It takes him another half hour to finish dinner, and he calls up the stairs to Carly, busying himself with setting the table.

As soon as Carly comes downstairs, he sees something's wrong… Like, _seriously_ wrong, worse than the past week. Sam left here happily enough, if a little silently, and so why Carly should look this distressed or worried is a mystery to Spencer.

He wants to ask her if something's wrong right away, but he decides to wait. Maybe she'll open up more if he puts some food into her.

About ten minutes into dinner, his conscious and his curiosity are gnawing at him. "Is something wrong, Carly?" He asks, taking a huge bite of food. He knows there is, and he desperately wants her to tell him, to kill this curiosity that's growing and eating away at him.

She looks up at him, and he gulps, almost choking on the pasta, because he swears those are _tears_ in her eyes. She's _crying_.

She opens her mouth to say something, but then, suddenly, snaps it shut, and she just shakes her head, looking back down at her hands. She doesn't speak for the rest of dinner, and he can't bring himself to say anything either.

She excuses herself early because she says she doesn't feel well. He's not sure if this is a lie or the truth.

He leaves the dishes on the table and goes up the stairs after her, about two minutes later. He wants to talk to her.

She was crying at dinner. It upsets him greatly. He doesn't like that she's so upset it's making her _cry_. He's suddenly incredibly worried about her.

He approaches her door and raises his hand to knock, but pauses when he hears muffled noises inside.

She's crying, full out heart-wrenching sobs.

It makes Spencer recoil, not only because he has absolutely _no idea_ what to do when Carly cries, but also because she hasn't confided in him. It's very unlikely that she'll open up now.

He goes back downstairs and sits at the table, watching his fingers tear their paper napkins into little pieces.

He doesn't know what to do.

**CS**CS**CS**

Sometimes he hates his father.

After their mother died… well… it was hard on everyone. Spencer himself was just twenty-one or twenty-two. Their father was on leave from the Air Force, because their mom's condition had been deteriorating, and the doctors recommended that 'all family members be present'. That's what they said to him, at least.

Spencer hated that phrase. It sounded so impersonal. It was as if they had already given up on his mom.

She'd been sick for a while; months, actually. It was terrible… difficult for all of them, but especially their dad.

After they… lost her, his dad had closed off. He'd stopped eating, sleeping, taking care of himself… but the worst thing was that he'd stopped taking care of Carly.

She doesn't remember any of this. The whole experience was clouded by the loss of their mother. But Spencer remembers.

He was in college. He was barely old enough to take care of _himself,_ let alone another _kid_.

But their dad left. He said it was because he _had_ to, because the Air Force was calling him back, and he had been gone for too long. Spencer supposes that that might be true, sort of, but he's also sure that the main reason he left was because of their mom.

He always used to say how much Carly looked like their mom.

After… everything… Spencer thinks it was too hard for him.

Sometimes Spencer hates his dad.

He had to drop out of college to take care of Carly. It's okay, he didn't really mind, because at that point he had wanted to focus on his art full-time anyways. He never found the courage to tell their dad.

Colonel Shay was always adamant on Spencer 'making something of himself', and he thought art was 'a pointless profession'. But Spencer's managed to keep them both alive, and clothed, and comfortable for eight years. What has their father ever done, except send a check every month for the cost of the apartment?

He doesn't know how hard it is to raise a kid. He's never had to do it.

Spencer's always been close to Carly. It's one of the things he prides himself on: their relationship. He loves her more than he loves anything in this world, and he would literally do anything for her.

But it sure as hell hasn't been easy. They've had their dark moments for sure. Many times he feels like _Carly's_ the one taking care of _him_. Sometimes it's nice, having someone take care of you, especially when you've had to take care of someone else for so long.

By now they've fallen into a steady rhythm, and Spencer truly loves his life.

He's always been close to Carly. They've never kept secrets from each other.

That's part of why this is bugging him so much. He doesn't like that Carly's so upset and he can't do anything. He doesn't know what to do if she won't talk to him.

He doesn't know what to do.

He acts like he doesn't hear Sam climbing through her window about forty minutes later.

He acts like it doesn't hurt him, just a little bit, that she trusts her best friend more than her own brother.

He's never been a good actor.

**CS**CS**CS**

Carly doesn't remember ever being this warm or comfortable in her bed. She shifts slightly, and curls her body closer to the warm, squishy pillow she's coiled around.

Her eyes fly open, and she tries to jerk away from what she suddenly realizes is a _body_ she's embracing so tightly. The other person's arms are too firmly wrapped around her, though, for her to break free.

Her heart is pounding as the adrenaline floods her system, but suddenly she's blinking and her eyes are clearing up and she sees _Sam_ below her, in her bed, still sleeping soundly and peacefully. And her fear melts away.

She had one of those panic-attacks where you wake up first thing in the morning and can't remember anything that's happened in the past day for about twenty seconds. Of course, when everything _does_ come rushing back, it hits Carly like a freight train.

Suddenly her head is pounding, the physical evidence of all the tears she shed yesterday. Her throat is dry and her mouth is sticky, and she's sure that her eyes are red and puffy. She must look horrific.

Sam doesn't. Sam looks beautiful.

She's asleep, and the frown lines that are usually present on her face have disappeared. She looks younger than Carly's used to, and it's _almost_ a little strange.

Sam never tries to look beautiful.

She just _is_.

Even now, with her mouth slightly open, her hair a tangled mess, and no makeup on, she still looks more remarkable than Carly's _ever_ felt.

It's nice laying here with Sam, Carly notes as she slides back down into the bed and into Sam's arms. It's nice being able to forget the drama with her brother, and her fear over coming out, and whether or not she's ready to hold hands with Sam as they walk down the halls. It's nice not having to worry about that.

Unfortunately, it's only Tuesday, and Carly's blaring alarm shocks them out of their reverie. She forgot all about school.

She feels terrible, and she most definitely doesn't want to have to do school work today. But she skipped yesterday, and she knows Spencer isn't happy with her for that.

She groans and rolls over, managing to extract herself from Sam's arms just enough to hit the 'off' button on her clock. She hates this alarm, but it's the only thing that really wakes her up. She sleeps through almost everything else. Spencer used to joke that she'd sleep right through the fire alarm if given the chance.

Sam grunts and yanks roughly on Carly's waist, pulling the other girl tighter against her. Carly smiles ruefully, but allows Sam to embrace her for about thirty more seconds. She has to get up soon if she wants to get everything done in time to walk to school with Freddie.

But she really doesn't want to. But she has to. But it's so nice being here with Sam… "Damn it." She laughs under her breath. It's never been this hard for her to make a decision this easy. This isn't even a decision. It's just an action.

But she doesn't want to wake Sam up.

Carly sighs before wiggling a little, just enough to extract her arm from her snoozing girlfriend. She reaches up and pokes Sam's cheek. Nothing happens, so she does it again. And again. "Sam." Carly whispers. "Sam, wake up. We have school."

Sam just grumbles and doesn't move. "Sam I know you're awake." Still nothing. "Spencer's making bacon."

"I'm up!" Sam shouts, her eyes flying open and sitting up swiftly. Carly laughs.

Sam looks around and raises her nose to sniff the air tentatively. Apparently she doesn't smell the bacon she's been promised, because she turns back to Carly and pouts. "That was a mean trick." She says, sticking out her lower lip comically.

"I'm sorry, but I had to wake you up. We have school."

"School is stupid. Bed is nice. I like bed. Can't we just stay here?"

"As much as I would love to stay here all day, we skipped half of yesterday, and I don't think Spencer would be too happy with me skipping another." Sam's pout deepens. Carly closes the distance between them effortlessly, and places a soft, gentle kiss to Sam's lips. "I promise we can hang out after school, okay? We'll come right back here, and if Freddie comes around, I'll kick him out."

Sam grins and kisses Carly back. She pulls away after a few seconds. "I'd kiss you harder, but I think I have morning breath."

Carly shrugs. "That's okay, I have to shower anyways." Carly says, standing from the bed and leaving the comfort of Sam's embrace.

"Can I come?" Sam asks jokingly.

Carly shoves her arm. "Get dressed and go downstairs and make yourself some breakfast, yeah? Your toothbrush is in the bathroom."

"You're so bossy…"

"You know you like it." Carly sings as she skips her way into her adjoining bathroom.

Sam grumbles under her breath. She makes a promise to herself, then and there, that she'll _never_ tell Carly exactly how much she _does_ like it.

**CS**CS**CS**

"Hey Spencer." Sam says as she strolls into the kitchen fifteen minutes later. She would have been down faster, but she stayed behind a little longer than strictly necessary to listen to Carly sing in the shower.

It sounds a lot weirder than it actually is. Carly has a nice voice, and Sam likes listening to it.

"Hey Sam." He says, glancing up from the magazine he's reading. Some people read newspapers in the morning, but Spencer likes reading _People._ He has a thing for celebrity couples.

He's not ashamed.

He doesn't mention anything about Sam being there in the morning, when he clearly watched her go home last night. He knows that Carly was upset, and he knows that Sam is her go-to friend when she's upset about anything.

Sam doesn't mention it either, but this could just be because she hasn't thought about it. Mostly in the mornings (or anytime she enters a kitchen), Sam's brain just switches to 'get-food-now'. Spencer can relate.

She digs around in the fridge for a few seconds before pulling out milk and a packet of bacon. It should be enough meat to feed a whole family, but Spencer knows Sam can devour it on her own (and probably a second one, if anyone gave her the chance).

As the bacon's frying on the stove, she gets herself some cereal from the cabinet. She sits down at the table across from Spencer and eats her food, staring at the cover of the magazine in his hand.

"Working on a sculpture?" She asks, her eyes flitting to the large semi-recognizable block of cheese off to the side of the room.

Spencer doesn't even look at it. "Yup. It's me."

Sam squints and tilts her head slightly. "Oh yeah. I can see it. It's good." It's quiet while she gets up and piles the bacon onto a plate. She sits back down and munches on it. "Won't it go bad, though?"

"Hmm?" Spencer asks, putting the magazine down so he can focus on Sam completely. "Sorry, didn't catch that."

"Won't the statue go bad? If you don't refrigerate cheese it starts to get moldy and then it smells. It's not fun. I should know; I tried to keep a stash of it under my bed for a few months. Never gonna try that again."

"Oh." Spencer says, looking at the statue. "I didn't think about that. Should I throw it away?" He asks, but he really doesn't want to. He hates leaving projects unfinished.

Sam shrugs. "Seems like a waste of cheese, if you ask me."

"That's what I was thinking."

Just then Carly comes skipping down the stairs, humming to herself. "Hey Spence, hey Sam." She says as she drops her backpack on the ground and hops into the kitchen.

Spencer bites his lip to keep from smiling. She's so much happier this morning, which is a huge relief to him.

Carly sits down at the table, and has to force herself not to lean over and kiss Sam on the cheek. Sure they're friends, but she's pretty sure even _Spencer_ would notice something like that.

"You hungry?" Sam asks, taking a bite of her cereal.

"A little, I guess. Why?"

"I saved you some bacon." Carly smiles at her and accepts it, blushing slightly.

Spencer drops his fork and his jaw, simultaneously. Sam just offered up a piece of her bacon… _willingly_! Sam Puckett willingly gave up a piece of meat!

"We've gotta go to school Spence. See you later!" Carly says, standing up and grabbing her backpack with one hand, Sam's arm with the other, dragging her out the door.

"Bye." Spencer says quietly, still unable to believe what he just witnessed.

Sam gave up her bacon.

Okay, something weird was going on with the two of them, he knows it. He just has to figure out what it is.

**CS**CS**CS**

**I stayed up until 3 in the morning finishing this, because I love you all that much. I'll see you for Chapter 9!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: ****Hey guys! Sorry for the delay, I've been a little out of commission lately. I was away for a few weeks and, stupidly, I left my computer charger at home. I know all you're hearing is excuses excuses. And I suck, I get that. But I just got back and I whipped this up for you really fast, because you know how much I love you all, and I wanted you guys to have an update. So here it is. Chapter 9!**

iLost My Mind

Chapter 9

"Sam?" Carly asks as they approach the school. She isn't holding Sam's hand, though she knows she wants to. She wants to badly. But she won't do it.

"Yeah?" Sam asks, glancing both ways down the street before venturing out. Carly is only two steps behind her.

She's trying not to look at Carly too often. She knows if she does, she'll get so distracted she'll walk into something. And not only would that be dangerous, it'd be embarrassing as hell.

"So… when we go to school… umm…" Carly struggles with her words, unable to voice what she's thinking in a way that's tactful enough.

"Yeah Carly?"

"Well… can we just be friends?" Carly asks nervously.

Sam smiles sweetly. "That's all you wanted to ask? Jesus, of course we can just be friends. This is difficult for everyone, Carls. I won't want pressure you. Take all the time you need, seriously."

Carly stares at her for a few more seconds. "I really want to kiss you right now."

Sam laughs and takes one step closer. She leans in, as if she's about to kiss her, but at the last second she twists her head and places one long, wet kiss on Carly's cheek.

Carly shrieks and backs away, wiping at her cheek and laughing. "You're disgusting, and a tease."

Sam just grins. "Come on, we're going to be late if we don't hurry up."

"Since when have _you_ ever cared about being late?"

"Since you made me leave a very comfy bed this morning to go to school. If I have to suffer, I'm not doing it spending the afternoon in detention with Briggs."

Carly rolls her eyes. "You're such a drama queen."

"But you love me anyways." Sam says, winking and turning on her heel before marching into school. Carly just watches her go.

"Yes." She whispers once she's sure Sam's out of ear-shot. She shakes herself before following her girlfriend inside quickly. Sam's right, though. She doesn't want to spend the afternoon with Briggs, either.

Carly, Sam, and Freddie have been mini-celebrities at their school ever since iCarly first started. Because of that, Carly, Sam and Freddie have had to deal with looks and whispers and more attention than _anyone_ really wants.

But now, walking inside with Sam, Carly begins to feel paranoid. Suddenly every whisper is amplified; every hushed word is spoken about _her._ Every look is judgmental and all-knowing. Her eyes shoot around, making eye-contact with every person who lets their gaze wander the halls.

They're all looking at her, all of them. Every side-long glance is lingering on her, and Sam, and the distance between them, and how they disappeared yesterday and showed up together today, and _everyone knows_.

Carly's heart is pounding away in her chest. She feels a cold sweat erupt on her brow, and her vision begins to grey out.

It's too much. It's all too much.

Sam's walking ahead, her bag slung over her shoulder, completely at ease, but Carly's still frozen in the doorway to the school.

Now people really _are_ starting to look at her, and she knows that all she has to do is _move_. She's standing still, she's blocking traffic, she's attracting attention… she just needs to fucking _move_.

Sam finally turns around after about ten steps. She looks behind her, an eyebrow quirked. It's such a normal expression. She looks just the way Sam normally looks. She looks the same. Why does she look the same? Why isn't she terrified? Why isn't she sweating? Why isn't her heart racing? Why isn't anyone looking at _her_?

"Carly?" Sam asks, and Carly thinks that it's the final straw. Sam speaking pulls her away from what's happening to her. Sam speaking pulls her back into the here and now.

But all that does is give Carly a chance to run.

She takes off down the hall, brushing past Sam without a second glance. She knocks into people, barely able to control herself, barely able to stand up straight. Her eyes are leaking with tears, and she keeps her head down, unwilling to let people see it.

She doesn't look at Sam as she breezes past her, so she misses the completely confused and down-trodden expression on Sam's face.

"Carly!" Sam tries to call, tries to bring her back, but it's useless. She doesn't know why this is happening, either. Carly was fine twenty seconds ago. They agreed to be friends. No matter how hard it was for Sam to _just be_ Carly's friend, now that she knew she was more, now that she'd had a taste of what being with Carly was like… she knew it was hard.

But why had Carly run off the way she had? _Why? Why? Why?_ Sam repeats it like a mantra in her head, even as people around them start to whisper, confused glances passing between members of different social groups.

One boy tries to say, "Sam, what's wrong with Carly?" But Sam stomps by him without paying attention.

She has to be normal, she tells herself. She has to act like this is just a normal day. Obviously Carly's having trouble with it, Sam thinks, wincing slightly at her sudden feeling of helplessness. She should be with Carly. She should be helping her, comforting her… but Carly doesn't seem to want to be with her.

Jesus, they'd only been in school five minutes and already Sam's day was looking to be one of the worst to date.

She's trying to act normally. She's trying to be angry, and aloof, but all she feels is drained. She feels like she needs to sit down.

How can a day that started off so perfectly have turned into _this_?

She feels frustrated. Frustrated and upset, anxious and desperate, and… Christ where was Freddork when you actually wanted him?

**CS**CS**CS**

Carly throws herself into the first empty classroom she sees. Usually she'd take refuge in the girl's bathroom, but it was the morning, right before the start of school. That's usually when it's the busiest.

She's humiliated enough as is, she doesn't need fifteen girls seeing her weeping her heart out.

She has nothing to cry about. She knows this, even as she slides to the floor against one of the classroom walls, silent sobs wracking her body.

Nothing's happened to make her feel this way… not yet, at least.

No one was looking at her, no one was talking about her, no one knew, except for Sam, Freddie and herself. No one else _knew_ that she was… whatever she was. A lesbian… or whatever.

She groans and hits her head against the wall behind her. Even _thinking _the word makes her stomach churn uncomfortably.

What the hell was she thinking? She couldn't do this, she couldn't be this person. This wasn't her. She wasn't strong enough. She wasn't strong like Sam.

"Carly?" Someone says tentatively, poking their head through the doorway. The classroom is dark, so all Carly can see is the vague outline of a figure, framed by the bright fluorescents of the hallway outside.

She wipes at her eyes hurriedly, trying to mask the evidence of her condition, knowing as she does so that it's futile.

"Yeah?" She says, trying to ignore the fact that her voice is shaking.

Gibby smiles slightly at her before stepping into the classroom and closing the door behind him. "I saw you run in here, and you looked upset, and I… sorry. I just thought you might want someone to talk to, is all." He says, shrugging his shoulders.

Carly manages a small, genuine smile aimed in his direction. She closes her eyes and leans her head back against the wall. There's a slight pounding ache near the crown of her head, and she's not sure if it's the stress, the crying, or the fact that she just abused herself against this very wall mere seconds ago. Probably a little of all of them.

"You're sweet, Gibby. Really, you are. I never got why you hang out with us." She says, referring to herself, Sam, and Freddie.

Gibby sinks down next to her, his shoulder brushing against hers. She feels him shrug. "I'm not sure either." He says truthfully. "No matter how often Sam hits me, and no matter how annoying Freddie gets," Carly smiles ruefully, "you guys put up with me, too. Not many people do that."

Carly opens her eyes and looks at him. She wants to say something. She wants to apologize, or tell him how great she thinks he is… but she can't. Words fail her.

For his part, Gibby doesn't expect anything. He's not looking for pity. He just wants to help a friend in need.

Carly sighs and leans her head against his shoulder. "I'm scared, Gibby." She says finally.

"Of what?" He asks. Carly is silent. She's not sure if she wants to answer him. She's not sure if she's ready for people to know, even if it's somebody like Gibby.

She trusts Gibby. But she trusts Spencer, too, and that wasn't enough.

He sits in silence with her, not prodding her, not trying to get her to say anything. She'll speak when she's ready. He knows that.

"I'm scared of what people will say, of what they'll think. I'm scared of being judged." Carly finally manages to whisper out. Still, Gibby doesn't say anything. She hasn't told him what this is about, and far be it for him to assume anything and guess.

So again, he stays silent.

"Why does everything have to be so freaking _scary_?" She says, her voice barely audibly.

"Life is scary." Gibby says just as softly. "It only makes sense that the best things in it are just as terrifying."

Carly laughs, her heart lifting, her head feeling lighter than it had in days. She lifts her head and kisses Gibby on the cheek. "You're sort of amazing, you know that?"

"Mind spreading the word to some other females? I could use a date."

Carly laughs again as Gibby stands up. She takes his hand and lets him pull her to her feet. "I'll do that Gibby. And thank you. You've really helped. Like… more than I thought you could."

Gibby smiles at her. "Don't underestimate Gibbehhhh next time." He says, drawing out his name comically.

Carly laughs again. "Never again Gibby. I'll see you later."

"Bye Carly. And I think you should go for it, by the way."

Carly pauses in the doorway, turning around and looking at him, two parts confused, one part petrified that he's figured out her deepest, darkest secret. "Go for what?" She asks, managing to keep her voice even.

He shrugs. "Whatever it is that's got you so worked up. I think it's worth it. You wouldn't be this upset if it wasn't worth the risk."

Carly shoots him one last parting smile before disappearing off down the hallway in search of her best friend turned girlfriend.

"Did I do it right?" Gibby asks the seemingly empty classroom.

Freddie steps out of the shadows. He smiles at his friend and claps him on the shoulder. "You did just great buddy."

"I have no idea what any of that was about."

Freddie laughs. "It's okay. Here." He holds out a twenty dollar bill, which Gibby pockets slowly.

"I still feel weird about this. I mean… all you said was 'tell Carly to go for it'. Why do I feel like this is some backwards drug deal?"

Freddie laughs again. "You ask too many questions Gibby." He says as he walks out of the classroom, a happy spring in his step. He's done good today. Sam and Carly will be thanking him very soon.

Gibby grumbles under his breath in the now vacated classroom. "Definitely a drug deal."

**CS**CS**CS**

"I'm sorry."

Sam pauses and blinks, still looking into her locker, before shrugging and continuing to rummage for her history book. Briggs will have a heart attack. _Sam Puckett bringing her book to class… the world as we know it is ending._

"It's fine." She says, though she knows it isn't. She's hurt… she's hurting. Carly's been hurting her a hell of a lot recently.

"No it isn't." Carly says from behind her, but still Sam doesn't turn. One look at Carly's apologetic face and she'll be done for.

"I told you it doesn't matter. You were freaked… or whatever. Don't worry about it Cupcake."

"Sam." Carly says, and Sam has to sigh, resigned, as she turns to face her girlfriend. This doesn't feel like a fight. This is what making up from a fight feels like. But they never even fought…

This whole thing is very confusing.

"Sam _I'm sorry_. I know I'm screwing everything up for you… for _us_. It sucks, okay? But I'm trying, I swear I am. Be patient with me. Don't freeze me out when I'm a jerk."

Sam has to smile at her. "Okay, I'll try. I know we both have… things to work on."

Carly breathes a sigh of relief. "So we're good?"

Sam nods. "We're good."

"Good. Hug?"

Sam rolls her eyes and pulls Carly into a tight embrace, keeping her arms loosely around her girlfriend's neck. She breathes in the smell of Carly's comforting shampoo.

"I really am sorry."

"Carly if I got upset every time you walked away from me, we'd have some serious problems. Besides," she adds in a barely-there whisper, "I love you. I wasn't kidding when I said I'd give you time."

They separate, well aware of the fact that their embrace is bordering the hazy line between friendship and something more.

"But don't freeze me out either, okay? When you need time to think, to get away… _talk_ to me, okay? I don't like being left thinking that you hate me."

Carly smiles too, once again blown away by the thoughtfulness of her girlfriend. Who knew Sam was this understanding?

Well… Carly did, but if she told anyone else they'd never believe her.

Sam brings her hand up and wipes subtly at Carly's cheeks, still a little damp from her small break-down. Her smile slips, her lips pulling down in a tiny frown. "I hate you crying over this."

Carly just shrugs, but closes her eyes, allowing herself to enjoy her girlfriend's touch in this innocent setting. "Part of the package, I guess."

"I guess."

They stare at each other, silent, tension rippling in the air between them. Not uncomfortable tension, not hatred, but that feeling like something's just happened, some huge milestone they've just leap-frogged over without even knowing it.

The bell rings and they both start, Carly taking an automatic step backwards. Sam pretends she doesn't notice.

The hallway's getting louder as students say their farewells, going off in different directions to each of their individual classes. Carly clears her throat. "We'd better go. Don't wanna be late… you know."

It's a weak voice, a weak sentence, a weak goodbye, but again, Sam pretends not to notice. She just nods and follows Carly towards their first shared class of the day.

Sam's never been one for school, that's no secret. Though how anyone expects her to learn about _history_, when all she can think about is the _future_, is beyond her.

It's pointless.

But no one else can know that.

**CS**CS**CS**

It's easier with Freddie around. When they're by themselves, in this place where secrets are everything, there's too much to think about. The silences, instead of being awkward not-knowing-what-to-say gaps, are instead I-have-too-much-to-say. It's uncomfortable, and they're not the only ones who feel it.

In third period science, Carly's lab partner has to physically drag her away from their table. She almost caught her sweater on fire. Sam doesn't hear the bell ring to signal the end of math, and she actually hangs around in her desk for an extra two minutes before someone walks by and kicks her chair leg.

People notice that the easy-banter that usually flows between them is absent. Some people whisper between themselves, speculating as to what they're fighting about. The scene in the hallway that morning (the first one, not the second), has already traveled around, and most people seem to be blaming Sam.

She doesn't care.

She doesn't even hear them.

Lunch is nice. Freddie keeps conversation flowing, and it's almost as if everything's back to the way it was, as if nothing's changed.

But that's not true. Everything's changed.

Every single thing Carly does seems to be planned, calculated. She walks down the hallway next to Sam and then, suddenly, will take a half-step to her left, putting about six more inches between them. She reaches out to brush a strand of hair out of Sam's face, then quickly retracts her hand as if it's been burned. She sits next to Sam at lunch, and when their elbows brush, she scoots away.

It's terrible. Each one is just another contraction to Sam's heart.

But she breathes. She stops and breathes. She reminds herself that Carly is her girlfriend, Carly is finally _hers_. She tells herself that it isn't personal. She isn't being scorned by the girl she loves, Carly's just being careful. She just has to get through another half day, and then it'll be over, and they can go back to Carly's, and not have to worry about prying eyes, or over-excited ears…

Carly wants to be with her. She does. This isn't Carly. This is Carly's fear.

It's the most she can do.

It's enough, though.

When the final bell rings Sam almost laughs, giddy with relief. Finally she can go back to being with Carly, to talking with her and not being worried if someone will pick up on it and think… something… _anything_.

It'll get easier. Being around Carly in front of people will get easier. Soon they'll be joking and laughing and talking like they always did. The only change will be that now Sam's got something no one else does. She has Carly.

It'll get easier.

It has to.

**CS**CS**CS**

**A/N: ****Goodness me that took long enough! Sorry for the delay folks! And sorry it's a little shorter than my other updates, this just felt like a good place to end it.**

**Next chapter****: More of their school life. Sam shares a secret. Will Spencer finally figure out what's going on with his little sister?**


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